Viper Of Light
by The Warrior Of Twilight
Summary: Time-Travel. Betrayed. Replaced by his master. Dooku died by the hands of Qui-Gon's legacy, filled with regret and sorrow for his failure to save the galaxy from corruption. Now given a second chance to try everything again, will he use this gift to save the lives of countless beings in a galaxy corrupted by darkness, or has he fallen too far already beyond redemption?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Just an idea of mine I desired to try out. I was going to do a Count Dooku story anyway, and with the recent tragic passing of Sir Christopher Lee, I thought 'why not', as tribute to the man. If enough people believe like it and this story has potential, then I shall continue it after this first chapter. And yes, I am using EU lore with this story. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Kill him."

This was not how it was suppose to end.

This was _not how it was suppose to end._

But alas, the Force claimed otherwise. Count Dooku, known by few as Darth Tyranus, Dark Lord of the Sith, the fallen Jedi Master, Count of Serenno, leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, knelt in defeat before the very Jedi Knight he severely underestimated, waiting for the inevitable conclusion to follow.

This wasn't how it should have ended. The curtains were closing on him, and Dooku will never witness the final act.

And, perhaps, he no longer wished to, considering the play was orchestrated by the very same monster who betrayed him. His horrified eyes gazed at the villain behind it all, who was preoccupied staring at his future disciple - Dooku's _replacement_ \- with ill-concealed glee.

"Kill him now."

After everything he'd done. All those years of loyalty, of proving himself, of the promises of a new glorious future for the galaxy, was ted by those simple words. The Count had been deceived, not for the first time, allowed himself to believe nothing like this would occur, that Sidious would allow him to see the new corrupt-free democracy for himself, that they, together, created to ensure peace and prosperity throughout the galaxy.

Now Dooku was paying the price for it.

He wanted to yell, to express his outrage and horror over this betrayal. But no words were released, only sharp breathing, as the pain over his hands sliced off him was too much. Dooku supposed that was to be expected, at his age.

Instead, not wanting the last thing he saw before arriving to oblivion to be that Sith's triumphant look, Dooku returned his appalled gaze on Skywalker, who looked evidently conflicted.

"I shouldn't."

A weak protest, the occupents of the room knew, as the dark side was too strong in the boy now. Too strong for him to resist. He knew this. Sidious knew this. Perhaps Kenobi would have known this too, were he not have been previously rendered unconcious.

The curtains were closing faster. And it was not to Dooku's liking... which was a massive understatement. His hopes of a new established governement, free from the incompetent and greedy representatives of all systems, one where corruption no longer ran rampant from the foolish leaders. One where the disorganized Jedi Order or the sorry excuse for a Senate no longer took control over whatever it pleased. A dream of absolute peace throughout the universe run by those who knew what they were doing.

All for naught now.

Sidious clearly desired no similar views for the future. The Sith Lord simply desired power, and will even replace those who served him with undying loyalty - Dooku's own hidden plans of usurping him notwithstanding - without a shred of guilt.

Was Dooku not the same, when he served under the deceptive Dark Lord so many years ago, after Qui-Gon's death by that hands of that brutish Zabrak?

 _Qui-Gon..._

What would that former student of his think about, with this situation? His master who trained him and loved him like a son, kneeling before the young boy whom Qui-Gon discovered on Tatooine all those years ago? Would he express disappointment for joining the very same man whose apprentice killed him? Regret for not being there to train Skywalker himself? Saddened that his old master had fallen to the very darkness the Jedi feared? And how his old master had also partaken in Skywalker's eventual fall to the dark side?

"Do it."

In the end, Dooku speculated, it doesn't even matter. Aged eyes met youthful uncertain ones. Skywalker will kill him, unfortunately, and he deserved it. Yes. Dooku will earn this righteous retribution not with a wimpher, or a plea for mercy, but with the same steely resolve and pride he wore like a cloak. If he was to die, even by this reckless boy who was a part of Dooku's own legacy, then so be it. The Will of the Force clearly called for his death, for causing the genocide of thousands over a war created by his own bitterness against a failing Republic.

Sidious and Skywalker will destroy the disillusioned Jedi Order and pathetic Republic. Not Dooku. Not Tyranus. And it was rather fitting, thinking about it. He never wished for countless deaths in order to ensure peace, but there was simply no other way for it. Many forget that darkness can be used to enforce peace and freedom throughout the galaxy, when used by those with the sincerest intentions.

And Sidious held no such goals. It took too long for Dooku to see that now, and it was too late regardless.

Ah. There was the hardened look in the boy's eyes. Dooku mentally braced himself as he heard the sparking lightsabers move towards both sides of his neck. Only one though remained as the Force embraced his spirit.

 _Qui-Gon... Forgive me..._

* * *

 _"You were forgiven, Master, a very long time ago."_

The sound of a voice he hadn't heard over a decade incited Dooku's eyes to open wot widened degrees, as the reality of where he was sunk in. The first thing the aged Sith Lord noted was the fact he wasn't even standing, but _floating._ The next being he was floating within a light blue realm; similar to the clear blue skies of Naboo, and the next thing he knew the echoes of the Living Force whispered soothingly into his old ears.

His body was cloaked by pure warmness, as though the light wrapped around the aged ex-Jedi like a blanket. But was that absurd; he was a Sith Lord. Why would the Force choose to shield him with such brightness?

And for that matter...

"Where am I...?" And that quiet inquiry somehow brought memories of recent events rushing into Dooku's brain. The duel between himself against Skywalker and Kenobi. Kneeling in defeat before the powerful boy. Sidious' betrayal. The blades crossing as he felt the heat of the lightsabers slash against his neck-

A sharp intake of breath at the realization of it all. Was that all a simple dream, or was he dreaming now? No, no the pain he felt upon losing his hands was far too real than a fabrication from his mind would allow. Perhaps... he was...? Dooku inspected his body thoroughly, mouth gaping anbd eyes widened rather uncivilized for a Count, as he moved around his returned hands.

But how...? Was he truly dead? That must be the case.

 _"Even in death you strive on pessimism, my old Master."_

The second time his old apprentice spoke, and this time Dooku didn't believe it to be a delusion of his, as the voice filled with compassion and warmth emitted from behind him. If the Sith Lord was dead, then that meant-!

And indeed, Qui-Gon Jinn, looking just as he did all those years ago before he died, was standing before his old teacher, arms folded with that bright smile Dooku had longed to see for a long time now. All mannerisms and composure of his title was instantly dropped at the sight of his apprentice - his _son_ \- who smiled lovingly at him.

"Qui-Gon..."

The Jedi Master made a peaceful gesture, and just like that the Count felt gravity return to him, landing softly on the invisible ground. And when Qui-Gon spoke, Dooku noticed a echo in his voice. _"At ease, Master, this is no deception; you are one with the Living Force now."_

Hearing that confirmation, Dooku recalled the composure he held for over his whole life and did so, speaking with a far more civilized tone. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Qui-Gon. If I am truly dead, then why am I here?"

Not that it wasn't a welcoming sight, his very first apprentice being also the first to greet him in the Netherealm of the Force. And yet-

 _"'Why are you here'? This is the Living Force-"_

"I know that." Dooku snapped rather harshly, but his old student didn't even flinch. The Count proceeded to gesture to the entire blue realm. "If I am indeed death, then I should be rotting in the bowels of the darkness with the rest of the Sith before me! Not be greeted by you! After everything I've done, all I planned to do that, why would the Living Force ever even consider allowing me entry to a more peaceful afterlife?"

Qui-Gon shrugged, having grown use to Dooku's tirades a long time ago. _"Because I requested so."_

"Then even in death, you remain a fool." Dooku frowned disapprovingly. "I am not the same man who trained you, Qui-Gon. I am a Sith Lord, the Count of Serenno, leader of a Separatist movement. Or has the Force never shown you what occurs in the living galaxy?"

 _"I've seen everything, Master."_

That comment caused the ex-Jedi Master to blink. "And yet you still... forgive me?"

 _"I do."_

"But I-"

 _"Please Master, for once, let the apprentice speak."_ That firm, yet not unkind tone, had Dooku obliged, partly because he desired to hear Qui-Gon talk once again. Satisfied, the student continued calmly. _"You have done plenty of wrongdoings, caused death to countless beings, and assisted in the eventual downfall of the Jedi and the Republic. But I forgive you for them all, regardless."_

"...Why?"

Instead of providing a useful answer to that, Qui-Gon asked his own question, _"Given the chance, Master, would you rectify all that?"_

"I beg your pardon?"

 _"You're not deaf yet, Master; if a moment to undo all you have done, all the deaths of strangers and close friends, all the chaos and further corruption you and your Sith Master caused for many years, slowly seducing Anakin to the dark side. Would you go back, given the opportunity, and remedy all of that?"_

What was Qui-Gon's point? More importantly, what would be the Count's answer to that? He rarely regretted everything he had done. Of course his old training as a Jedi and friendship he forged with others long ago instilled some guilt for his actions, such as Geonosis. But it was all for the greater good; the Republic was a vile disease that had to be purged from the galaxy. Surely Qui-Gon knew this as well.

And yet... was it all worth it?

In the end, it seemed otherwise. The Living Force still whispered that no matter what he did, the concluding path will always be being asked this very question from the ghostly Qui-Gon Jinn, as Dooku finally noticed the blue outlining around the Jedi's body. Even in death he wore that infuriating calm expression, as he waited patiently for his old master's answer.

Just what was his answer?

What would Dooku change? The creation of the Separatist movement? The death of innocents? The death of Sifo Dyas? Qui-Gon's death...?

"...Yes."

 _"What was that, Master?"_

"You heard me." Dooku was in no mood for games. Still, he nodded firmly at his old student. "I would fix everything I could. Do not misunderstand me, my old apprentice, the Republic remains incompetent and corrupt to the core, filled with greedy selfish fools who prefer self-appearances over welfare over their own systems. But I realise now that Palpatine never shared my goals for a more peaceful democracy; he only craves absolute control, and will use your - _our_ legacy to achieve as such."

 _"So you would go back."_

A statement. Dooku nodded. "Given the opportunity." Already the aged Sith felt quite exasperated of his old Padawan's riddles.

A light smile bloomed on Qui-Gon's face, and he sounded rather pleased. _"Then there's hope for the galaxy yet."_

Dooku frowned. What did he-? And suddenly the aged Sith Lord felt very light-headed, resting his recovered hand on his forehead. "What...?"

 _"You still have much to do, Master Dooku. The Will of the Force desires you try again, not just for yourself, but for the Jedi, for Obi-Wan, for Anakin, for every living thing in the galaxy."_

"I don't understand..." Everything was beginning to go blurry. Was the Force putting him to rest? Was there more to the hypothetical question asked of him? Was Qui-Gon before him really a manifestation, a way of testing the aged ex-Jedi?

Before he succumbed to the realm of sleep, the last thing he was was that irritable amused smile of his old student's. _"May the Force be with you... father."_

* * *

"- Dooku? Master Dooku!"

A wave of oxygen had flown into his lungs, as reality slowly returned to the aged Sith Lord. All sense were coming back naturally to him save for his vision, which was questionably hazy. Instinctively reaching a hand to his burning forehead, Dooku felt cold hardness against his knees, indicating he was kneeling down on a marble floor.

So where was he this time? Last thing Dooku recalled was speaking to...

"Qui-Gon!"

And suddenly his vision completely cleared, as the Jedi Master looked upwards to see his old apprentice again-

 _...What?_

Instead of his old pupil standing before him with infuriating amused expression, the Count was greeted by the concerned wrinkled features of an old friend.

Jocasta Nu appraised her old colleague, gently resting a soft hand on the Sith's shoulder. "Are you well, Dooku? Should I call the healers?"

W...What was happening right now? Doesn't this Jedi know they were no longer friends? The Dooku had forsaken his upbringing to her precious Order over a decade ago? What was even happening-?

The light side of the Force assaulted Dooku's mind like a tornado, and the Count finally noticed the countless shelves surrounding. Brown confused eyes widened in realization over his current location.

 _I'm... I'm in the Jedi Temple. But how?_

Common sense and rationality forced the Count to believe this was all simply a dream. Or an illusion fabricated by the Force as some sort of twisted punishment for his actions against the galaxy. And yet, it felt shockingly real. And staring into those kind gentle eyes of his old friend seemed to confirm that this was somehow all real.

But he died! Dooku knew that. No one, no matter how powerful they are with the Force, could survive being beheaded.

Unless...

"What... What happened?" The ex-Jedi found himself struggling to say, as his old colleague assisted him in standing back, allowing him to lean in support.

"You caused quite a scene, that's what." Jocasta replied with a hint of amusement, gesturing to the wide-eyed crowd of Jedi who were currently in the archives as well as them. Looking back, the Jedi Librarian continued with a sincere tone, "Are you sure you're well, Master Dooku? I don't believe you've collapsed like that ever since Master Tholme had you conduct those Niman training sessions."

Against himself, the aged Sith Lord scoffed. "I told that old man that style wasn't to my suited needs." Then as common sense finally took over, Dooku shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, Madame Jocasta, what precisely happened to me?"

"You collapsed on your knees." The librarian clarified, after allowing her old colleague some space to breathe. "It was quite horrifying, you looked as though you couldn't breathe, and then you yelled Master Jinn's name. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say the Force alerted you to his presence. Master Jinn had recently returned to the Temple with Padawan Kenobi."

The ex-Jedi frowned in confusion. 'Padawan Kenobi'? She made it sound as though the Count had time-traveled - which was beyond impossible - or this was simply a trick conceived by either the Jedi, or the Force. "You must be mistaken, my old student isn't-"

But before he could correct the librarian on her belief that Qui-Gon was even alive, or point a lightsaber at her neck since she's a _Jedi,_ the old bond that was severed, rather brutally, long ago was felt by the Count in full. This caused the old man to stagger back in shock, again resting palm on his beating forehead as the implications were strongly there, the presence of his old pupil alive and as vibrant as ever evident within the Temple.

 _Qui-Gon..._

Fully ignoring the the surprised voice of his old colleague, Dooku abandoned all elegance and swiftly exited the archives, brushing past any Jedi who stood in his way. He noted some staring at him in shock by the outward emotions that he, of all people, was displaying in his haste to see his pupil.

If by some miracle that he, Count Dooku, had somehow traveled to the past, then by the Force Dooku wasn't going to turn back on everything he said to his old student in the afterlife.

Everything will change, this time. Starting with his son.

* * *

 **AN: Please review, all criticism welcomed. I've wanted to do a fic of one of my most favourite Star Wars characters for a while now. Dooku is, unfortunately, rather underrated; not enough fics of this unique and complex character. I will do my best to give him justice. Until then my friends!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Blimey, didn't anticipate that many reviews and followers. Guess I was wrong in my previous assumption that my first chapter wasn't going to do that well.**

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"Would it be improper of me to say that I told you so?" There was a hint of tease in the Padawan's tone.

"It would be." Qui-Gon replied calmly to his student, who maintained his expressionless posture even after leaving the Council Chambers. Though refusing to meet his gaze, the Jedi Master knew without the slightest doubt that something was troubling his Padawan. There was clear emotions across their bond, such as distress and... jealously?

He shifted his gaze from the wall of the lift descending them to his straight-faced pupil. Had Qui-Gon said something back there to cause such turmoil in Obi-Wan? Was it about Anakin? Did he worry about the boy and his own future? Qui-Gon repressed a sigh. Clearly his constant lectures over keeping one's mind in the present weren't doing any wonders for the Padawan he thought of as a son.

As the elevator finally reached the bottom from the temple spire, Obi-Wan wasted no time in exiting through the opened doors. Oh no, he wasn't getting away that easily.

Qui-Gon called out, restraining the tone of amusement. "Padawan." Works like a charm. Obi-Wan immediately froze, waiting for his Master to catch up. Qui-Gon quickly obliged, raising a firm brow at his blank-faced student. "What troubles you?"

"Nothing Master." Was the quick, rather flippant response, as the student refuses to meet the gaze of the mentor.

This time Qui-Gon snorted. "That dismissive reassurance might work on the Healers - in the rare times it does - but even through the bond, it's clear something ails your thoughts, my young Padawan." He paused, waiting for any kind of response from his pupil. Qui-Gon sighed, hoping Obi-Wan would've trusted him enough to share his concerns. "Is this about Anakin?"

That did the trick. The young man's features cracked, flinching at how his Master saw right through him. "You seem eager to believe he's the Chosen One..." Obi-Wan muttered, inciting the aged Jedi Master to raise a brow.

"I am." There was no denying that. "The boy is exceptionally powerful. His connection to the Living Force is legendary. It is my firm belief he is indeed the Chosen One." Obi-Wan, again, said nothing to counteract. Strange. "Obi-Wan, why do you doubt my claims?"

For the life of him, Qui-Gon couldn't quite comprehend his pupil's reluctance to agree with him. Sure his Padawan sensed the connection between Anakin and the Force itself. There was no denying that power. So why was Obi-Wan hesitant in even talking about the boy? He didn't... feel threatened, did he?

"Whether you see it or not, the boy is the Chosen One. The Force tells me as much." Indeed, the bright power that surrounds Anakin, enabling him to emerge the victor in the Boonta Eve Classic, and help them secure the parts required to leave Tatooine and return to Coruscant. "It was by no simple coincidence that we stumbled upon him."

This time, Obi-Wan snorted. "It's always no coincidence that we happen to pick up strays wherever we go."

"I simply followed the whims of the Living Force." Qui-Gon replied calmly to the jab, sensing the slight anger in Obi-Wan's tone. Placing a gentle, yet firm hand on the boy's shoulder, the Jedi Master continued reassuringly. "Whatever it is that bothers you, young one, I'm certain will be put to ease, after we bring Anakin to the temple."

Again, the student said nothing. Qui-Gon waited for a moment before releasing him, sighing at the stubbornness Obi-Wan had. Surely after the Council's evaluation of Anakin, his pupil's worries will be put to rest-

A surge in the Force, prompting Qui-Gon to still at the presence heading in their direction. Obi-Wan obviously sensed it as well, as his eyes widened in surprise. Slowly, the Jedi Master stepped forward, his eyes focused on the temple hallway. It was presence he was very familiar with, and with the old bond it didn't take long to identify the presence that was his old mentor.

But what he also sensed caused his own eyes to widen, gently pushing Obi-Wan backwards for precaution, as his own aged teacher appeared right around the corner.

As if the revelation of the Chosen One wasn't enough to surprise Qui-Gon today. Here approaches his old master, looking quite earnest, and completely stilled upon the sight of his old student, looking comically disbelieving. The Jedi Master raised a brow at the unorthodox manners of his usually composed old master. But the disheveled look and frozen expression of Master Dooku wasn't what surprised Qui-Gon the most.

The old bond between the two was still there, and through it Qui-Gon could sense... darkness. Almost the same darkness he felt on Tatooine by that creature he believed to have been their enemy of old. And it was rolling off in waves by his old teacher. Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed, trying to comprehend the surreal of it all.

The Dark Side was strong in Master Dooku, and yet... he sensed no malicious intent from his old mentor. Cautiously reaching through their bond, Qui-Gon reeled back in shock by the turbulence of emotions aimed towards him: shock, earnestness, relief and... gratefulness?

Hearing a gasp from behind, indicating Obi-Wan must have sensed the darkness as well, Qui-Gon glanced at his student, sending a look to tell him not to do anything. Obi-Wan slowly nodded obediently, to Qui-Gon's belief. Whatever was happening, the baffled Jedi Master needed answers.

Looking back to his former master, Qui-Gon slowly approached, as Dooku was doing so in turn, all focus from the man seemingly focused on Qui-Gon and not, thankfully, Obi-Wan. "Master?" He called out hesitantly, raising an intrigued, yet humoured brow as the old man stilled for a moment. He looked... conflicted, as though whether approaching his former student was the best idea or not. Qui-Gon wasn't entirely certain what he was doing either. The Dark Side was palpable in his old mentor, and yet the Force pushed him to walk closer.

So Qui-Gon obliged. Cautiously, however.

Eventually, they were about two feet away from one another, blue inquisitive eyes meeting brown hesitant ones. What had happened to Dooku to cause such uncharacteristic behaviour, and why was the Dark Side flowing within him?

"Master?" He tried again, testing the waters. That seemed to cause another reaction, as the aged Jedi Master walked closer, Qui-Gon being calmed by the Force as two strong hands gripped his shoulders, Dooku behaving in the most unrealistic manner Qui-Gon had ever seen him in his entire life.

"Qui-Gon." Was the quiet name that exited the aged Jedi's mouth, and everything he knew about his former Master was thrown into question by the following gesture.

* * *

There were many things that seemed wrong these past few days. The discovery of the boy, the appearance of a Sith warrior, his master's belief over the child being the Chosen One of legend.

But this. This just put the cherry on the top.

He had never met Master Dooku. Obi-Wan only knew what he'd heard about him from his teacher and other Jedi. The man was a firm, composed and strict Jedi Master who involved himself in politics. An outspoken critic who firmly believed the Republic was slowly decaying unless change was done to it. According to others, Dooku also thought the system of the Jedi Order was just as corrupt as the Senate, convinced that the rules must evolve further in order for their survival, and stability of the Republic they fought for.

Everything that Obi-Wan heard about the man, was that Dooku was a political idealist who wasn't afraid to speak out against anyone to address his concerns, even Master Yoda. The fact that such a criticizing Master who was also considered on of the greatest swordsman to be produced from the Order, was the one who trained Master Qui-Gon came as a surprise to Obi-Wan.

But not anymore surprising than what was happening before his very eyes.

Everything he's heard about the man who trained his master was immediately disregarded by the fact Dooku was _embracing_ Qui-Gon. To be fair, the older man looked as though he had no idea what he was doing; Jedi rarely hugged one another, Qui-Gon occasionally being an exception to that, often embracing the embarrassed Obi-Wan from time to time. But this action by the older Jedi Master seemed to diminish every rumor the puzzled and wary Padawan had heard about the aged political Jedi.

That and the clear darkness radiating from the man.

Obi-Wan was tempted to draw his lightsaber and defend Qui-Gon from the man. But his master sent him a message through their bond, as though sensing his intentions: _Let me handle this, Obi-Wan._

 _But Master, he's-!_

 _Trust me._

A soothing gesture came from the bond, prompting Obi-Wan to, reluctantly, stand down. Whatever was going on, it was clear this was between his master and his master's master.

Finally, after Qui-Gon slowly returned the hug, to Obi-Wan's astonishment, the rather stiff awkward embrace ended, Dooku obviously composing himself. That brought some relief to Obi-Wan; but the darkness coming from the older Jedi continued to unnerve him.

Just what was happening?

"It is good to see you again, my son." Well, the warmness in the tone was a direct contrast to the clear darkness-

Wait... what did he just call Qui-Gon?

There was surprise from across the bond, as even his master didn't expect that. "The feeling is mutual... Master." Dooku didn't even seemed fazed by the hesitant response, in fact just talking with his old pupil seemed to make him... happy. "Though you must forgive my surprise. I didn't expect to see you after all these years."

Dooku nodded, seemingly in understanding. To Sith hell with the formalities! Obi-Wan wondered why his master wasn't inquiring about the palpable Dark Side surrounding the old Jedi. Was he stalling for time, waiting for the Council to sense the darkness also and join them below? It seemed to be working thus far.

Yet through their bond, Obi-Wan couldn't sense any such intent... something was clearly wrong here.

"Indeed." The older Jedi Master replied in that warm tone. "And hopefully that won't be the case this time." Obi-Wan raised a brow. 'This time'? He could sense the shared confusion from Qui-Gon. Yet before he could ask, a comlink seemed to beep from Dooku's robe, who, upon looking down, seemed quite surprised by the garments we wore.

What, was he expecting to wear something more suited for politicians?

Quickly recovering, the aged Jedi Master pulled out a comlink, staring at the device with a frown for a moment, as though remembering its importance. A dark expression passed his features, immediately inciting Obi-Wan's hand to clutch his cloaked weapon, in case the man tried anything, such as attack his master.

"Palpatine." The spike of disdain only warranted the Padawan further to unleash hie saber against the aged Jedi to defend his master. Just saying the Senator's name seemed to inflict anger on the old man's features, the name carried out as a growl. Obi-Wan, hand cautiously hovering about his saber, raised a brow at the clear disdain, the dark side swirling around the angered Jedi.

Could he even be called a Jedi any longer?

"It seems we will have to talk another time." Dooku said flippantly, reluctantly, turning around before pausing, looking back at his old pupil. "I wise to converse with you as soon as you are able, my former apprentice."

"I share that sentiment." Qui-Gon replied slowly, clearly as baffled as Obi-Wan. "But Master Dooku-"

Dooku cut him off, sounding more composed and regal as was rumoured about him. "We will speak again shortly, Qui-Gon. We have much to discuss."

 _I bet you do,_ The young Padawan thought, as they observed the aged Jedi's abrupt departure. But quickly realizing the risk, Obi-Wan rushed towards his master, speaking urgently, "Master, what are you doing? You sensed the Dark Side in him. He can't be allowed to wander free-"

"Let him go, Padawan. He's of no threat to us." 'No threat'?! Obi-Wan felt his jaw drop, staring in ridicule at his serious - yet clearly unstable - teacher. "The Force assures me he means no harm. The darkness my former Master holds... seems not to be directed at us."

"But he-"

"We must be cautious, however, Obi-Wan. Though," Qui-Gon continued, staring after the empty hallway thoughtfully, "I am curious as to what that was all about."

No kidding! But still, Obi-Wan was more certain than ever now, that this supposed Chosen One has clouded his Master's judgement more than he thought. Yet the perplexed Padawan felt his mentor wasn't the one in current need of a mind healer...

* * *

And within the Council Chambers above, the wise Masters of the Grand Jedi Order snapped their contemplative eyes open, widened in pure shock and dread whilst exchanging uncertain glances. The clear presence of the Dark Side, on Coruscant, the capital of the Republic, directly below their feet, in their own sacred Temple! Their home!

Panicked and wary stares then shifted to a humming Master Yoda, who opened his own eyelids the last. "Yes, the Dark Side that is. Long has it been, since sensed it, I have." The aged Grand Master mused thoughtfully, keeping focus on the symbol on the floor of the room.

And yet, the Force whispered to him, suggesting they take no action to this new possible threat, Without openly expressing it, Yoda was puzzled by the messages the Force was sending him. Do not engage the hostile force in their own temple of light and order? He expressed his mental question to the Unifying Force, which immediately responded in pure calmness.

 _Allow events to fold without interference. All shall be revealed when the time approaches._

Sensing the following intentions of his fellow Jedi, the wise master held up a small green hand. "No, confront this presence we will not. Commands it, the Force does."

"But it might just be the very Sith threat Qui-Gon spoke of." Mace Windu was the first to object, of course, hardened eyes narrowing against the very Jedi he respected the most. "Within our own temple. Our home."

Yoda nodded. "Yes, but our trust, the Force wishes of. And trust it, we must." The finality of his tone was adamantly clear, the fellow member of the Council reluctantly agreeing, those that have stood up to take action slowly returning to their seats. The apprehension was clearly choking the room, and Yoda closed his eyes, concentrating, the dark presence below so close to that of Qui-Gon and Padawan Kenobi's light presences.

A frown creased the aged Jedi's features. The identity of this presence felt... familiar... but who-?

Puzzled and shocked eyes snapped open as the presence's identity was quickly clear to Yoda. The Force soothing him while confirming what he was was sensing wasn't a trick on his own aged mind.

"Master Yoda?" Mace asked in clear worry and agitation. "What did you sense?"

Instead of answering, the small green Jedi Master bowed his head, a wave of shame and sadness coursing over his being, despite the Force's efforts to comfort. And from the memories of the past, Yoda recalled a vow he made to his most promising disciple decades ago.

 _When you fall, catch you I will._

* * *

 **AN: I had decided a while back not to have entirety of the story solely focused from Dooku's perspective. But it shall partly return to such next chapter. This whole vent takes place during episode I, I've neglected to mention. Thank you for your reviews, follows and favourites so far, I hope this chapter was worth the next, and I hope next time will be also.**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: You know, imagine what a real life Dooku would bring to our world, save for the part after he became a Sith.**

* * *

Thankfully, even though it was thirteen years ago, Dooku still recalled precisely where his old Jedi quarters were. The refreshing cool water splashed helpfully on the aged Count's face, who rubbed the liquid over his face in belief it will help him overcome these unique - yet impossible - circumstances. Pausing, the ex-Jedi stared down at the running basin, the implications of this extraordinary but inconceivable feats still being processed in his rational mind. Qui-Gon's true physical presence has confirmed his absurd suspicions.

By some feat of the Force, Dooku had defied the will of time and space, back to the day where his old apprentice still walked among them.

Dooku had never put much faith in those that couldn't be proven; such as that arrogant brat being the legendary Chosen One, for example. And time travel was another. Either the aged Count had either dreamt the whole thirteen years since leaving the corrupt Jedi Order up. was going insane, or the Force had been willing to return to a moment in time where Qui-Gon could be saved.

But why?

Turning the faucet off, Dooku raised his head upwards to meet his reflection, himself of over ten years ago staring right back from the mirror. While not much had changed from his aged features, the notable differences from his future and past self now would be the last streaks of brown across his greying hair and beard, in a striped pattern. Inwardly Dooku couldn't repress a smile; even his own hair believed in orderly.

But the fact remained, the Count has returned to the past. But how, and why? For once the aged Sith was defeated in knowledge, and that infuriated him. Dooku never placed much stock in the Unifying Force, specifically when it came to impossible unproven feats such as the situation he finds himself in now.

But with Qui-Gon around...

Dooku shook his head, allowing no outward emotion to display on his aged features. That was a foolish stunt he did earlier, Dooku chided himself. The lack of composure and control all because he saw the living breathing presence of his former pupil once again. His hands gripping on the edges of the basin, Dooku recalled the words of the spectra of Qui-Gon in the afterlife.

 _"You still have much to do, Master Dooku. The Will of the Force desires you try again, not just for yourself, but for the Jedi, for Obi-Wan, for Anakin, for every living thing in the galaxy."_

Was this what he meant? It must be. The logical explanation was clear through Dooku's mind. For some inexplicable reason, the Will of the Force returned him to that before Qui-Gon died. Was Dooku perhaps... the Chosen One after all?

Still recovering from this entire revelation, the Count inhaled deeply, the calmness of the Force wrapping him like a blanket. The Temple still bathed in the light of the Force, and the Sith Lord found himself unable to now grant leeway for some of that light to help him deal with the stress.

His comlink beeped again.

Dooku scowled, having read the contents behind his former master's request for their meeting earlier, and pulled out the damning device. If Dooku remembered correctly, he was to meet with Sidious, unaware of his true identity by then, in a cafe overlooking the Works. The Count had half a mind to run his lightsaber through the man's heart as soon as the traitorous Sith greeted him.

But unlike most Sith, Dooku wasn't without restraint. He'll indulge his former mentor, for now, before devising a plan to deal with him indefinitely, and save Qui-Gon from the Sith assassin on Naboo.

The death of a mindless Sith for the life of a maverick Jedi. A fair trade, all things considered.

* * *

Something was not right.

The minute the two sat down, Sidious picked up on a difference; an echo of the Force whispering to him that something was uniquely different about the Jedi at the opposite side of the table. The Sith Lord had yet to recall Dooku expressing sternness to that extent before during their meetings and conversations. And it appeared the charismatic Jedi Master was cloaking his Force signature from all, even non-Force users.

"The Senate is studying plans to develop housing projects in the flatlands." Sidious, in his Palpatine persona, responded to Dooku's rather cold remark about the Works below, outside the window of the cafe they met at.

The Jedi's brown eyes narrowed, and Sidious couldn't help but feel the slightest tingle the glare was aimed towards him than the man's legendary disgust for the Senate in question. "Why not simply build over a radioactive waste dump?"

Whatever was different about him, Dooku was expertly hiding it well. However, no deception was beyond the sight of a Dark Lord of the Sith. Sidious saw right through the troubled Jedi, and what he saw both intrigued and... unnerved him.

Not scared. Because Sith fear nothing. But unnerved.

Something had changed about this man before him. The expressed disdain, the cold words escaping his mouth, the way he spoke as though Dooku had partaken in this conversation before. Sidious couldn't pinpoint the source behind the greyness that now surrounded the Jedi like a veiled cloak. Not yet anyway.

"Where are credits to be made, the lives of ordinary citizens are of little consequence." Palpatine replied solemny, as Sidious discretely sunk into the darkness, inspecting the grey shield before by ever angle, moving like a snake examining its prey. The Sith Lord dare not 'touch' the shield, lest he reveal himself to be the ancient enemy the Jedi sought for. Not to Dooku, until the disgruntled Jedi proved himself anyway.

And from the look of things, that won't be long anyway.

"I hope you'll put a stop to it." Dooku said expectantly, his gaze blazing as though daring the Senator to challenge him.

 _Well, two can play this game, Master Jedi._

"I'd prefer the Works to remain unchanged for a time." Palpatine said smoothly, awaiting Dooku's responce as the man waved away an approaching waiter.

"So, a blockade prevents you from going to Naboo, and what happens but Naboo comes to you. Quite a piece of magic." Sidious caught the tiny sarcasm rolling off the tongue at the last part.

The Sith Lord was well acquainted with the art of acting; it has, after all, kept himself and his master hidng their true selfs from the blind faces of their enemies. So Sidious could easily detect the feigned interest Dooku was portraying.

But instead of pointing out such revealing cracks on the Jedi's acting, Palpatine smiled slightly. "Yes, my Queen has arrived."

"Your Queen. And from all I hear you may soon be her Supreme Chancellor."

Palpatine shrugged, while Sidious' wariness increased by Dooku's cold remarks. What has prompted such behaviour from this Jedi? Especially towards a man he considerably trust? Perhaps the events of Galidraan continue scar him immensely. Or perhaps the foolish Council had requested something of the Serennian that was unquestionable.

Either way, Sidious was put on edge by the firm brown eyes directly focused on him, as if assessing the prey himself. If the Sith didn't know any better, he'd say the man before him was more than prepared to stab his lightsaber through the Senator's heart.

"That is, however, part of the reason behind my asking you to meet me here." Palpatine began carefully, gauging the Jedi's reaction.

The man cocked an eyebrow, as though expecting that very sentence. Had Dooku anticipated every possible conversation during this meeting beforehand? "Worried that you won't receive Jedi backing if you're seen with me in the usual places?"

The Naboo Senator widened his arms considerably, "Nothing of the sort. But _if_ I am elected, and _if_ you and I are going to begin to work together, it behooves us to give all appearances of being on opposite sides."

Now the Serennian's eyes narrowed into slits, outwardly judging the humble Senator before him. Sidious gained the distinct impression that the man saw right through him, unraveling all his secrets with relative ease, and it unnerved the Sith even further.

But how?

"Work together... in what capacity?" Dooku inquired, with a barely concealed growl.

And it was at that point, that particular moment, that Sidious felt the Jedi's shield slip, and a wave of darkness washed over them. Palpatine restrained from expressing a surprised reaction, keeping his entire face neutral as he responded to the stern Dooku after a moment's pause, while Sidious reeled back in unexpected shock, the current of the dark side being soaked up by the Dark Lord of the Sith. It only took a second for Dooku to reinforce his Force signature, but Sidious had all the truth he required.

The dark side was _strong_ in Dooku. Stronger than he anticipated. A though the mand had been... trained to use the more powerful side of the Force. But why? And by who? Only two in the entire galaxy were capable of training someone of the dark side to that magnitude; Maul was an exception, as he was no true Sith.

Had Plagueis-?

No, the Muun's greatest flaw of trust in his own pupil prevents such an act of betrayal. Desite that, however, his master needed to be aware of this development as well.

Jedi Master Dooku was a Sith Lord. And Sidious _will_ find out who taught him such a mastery of the darkness.

* * *

It didn't take long for the Jedi Master to track down his old friend, hurrying through the hallways of the sacred Temple in his search. Luckily, the man had spotted his Dooku just as the aged Makashi master was leaving his quarters. "Dooku!"

His fellow Jedi had his back turned to him, but even Sifo-Dyas noted the stiffening, as if he was the last voice his friend expected to hear. And Dooku wasn't the only one surprised, Sifo-Dyas felt the shielded Force signature cloaking the aged Jedi Master, prompting his furrowed brow.

Slowly, Dooku turned to face his old comrade. "Sifo-Dyas..." The addressed Master barely heard the whisper, as if the sophisticated man before him was genuinely shocked to see his old friend. But why?

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Indeed, the Serennian appeared and sounded as though he hadn't seen Sifo-Dyas for years. He was only gone for about a week, taking care of an unpleasant mission on Eraidu. The humoured Jedi Master raised a brow, adding wryly, "Or were you expecting someone to attack you, hence your cloaked Force signature?"

As if quickly recomposing himself, the seventy-year-old Master cleared his throat, adopting that civilized tone Sifo-Dyas knew all too well. "Recent events have been keeping me on guard lately, my friend." The Serennian folded his arms, raising an elegant brow of his own, yet those brown eyes looked entirely uncertain, "How have you been, Sifo?"

 _Sifo?_

Now that was confirmation over something being wrong; Dooku hadn't addressed his friend with that short name for over several decades. "Compared to you, it seems, I am positively healthy." He replied with slight amusement, "I know when something's troubling you, old friend."

Dooku waved dismissively, flawlessly regaining his more sophisticated state. The man would make a brilliant politician, had he not been brought up as a Jedi, as others have remarked upon time and time again. "And I would be thrilled to share with you my concerns, old friend, but I am in current search for my old pupil."

And then something flashed upon his eyes, something Sifo-Dyas noted when Dooku first returned his gaze. Guilt? Regret? Was the wound of Vosa's disappearance still fresh to the Serennian? "Qui-Gon Jinn?" Sifo-Dyas chose to inquire instead, hoping it was about the maverick Jedi and not the one the Council was certain died. At Dooku's slow nod, the Master smiled slightly, relieved, "Well it's a good thing I caught up to you then, I've heard during my return to the Temple that Master Qui-Gon and Padawan Kenobi are already departing from Coruscant as we speak."

And that provoked a reaction Sifo-Dyas least expected, lowering his arm fold. The expression on Dooku's face stilled, eyes narrowed considerably, as though searching out through the aged bond between student and mentor, and the concerned Jedi felt frustration and worry roll off the older Master. "To Naboo?" Dooku asked, with a steel edge to his tone.

Sifo-Dyas nodded warily, not particularly liking the slight darkness he can feel leaking from the shielded signature. "Yes, the Queen of Naboo is determined to return to her home world, and the Council has dispatched Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi to accompany her, in hopes of finding this apparent Sith Lord they faced on Tatooine..." The Jedi Master trailed off, strong eyebrows forming into a 'V' shape at the clenched fist of Dooku's.

"I see." And with that slow statement, the Jedi Master briskly turned, "Thank you for the information, Sifo. If you'll excuse me, I have pressing matters to intend."

The Force warned Sifo-Dyas, as though he committed a life-changing impact. The man hurriedly walked forward before his friend could depart, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Dooku, wait. What are you planning?"

"To correct a death that should never have happened." The vague Serennian replied, shrugging off Sifo-Dyas' grip with ease. Glancing behind his shoulder, Dooku added before the other Jedi could interject, "It was good to see you again, after so long... my friend."

'After so long'?

Something was evidently amiss, and it clearly centered around Dooku. Even when debriefing the Council over his assignment to Eraidu, Sifo-Dyas had noted the tense and disturbed expressions on the wise Council's faces, as though danger was in the very halls of the sacred Jedi Temple, and that perturbed him as well. Either they finally sensed something large was going to strike the Republic very soon, the apparent return of the Sith, or the shifted nature of Jedi Master Dooku.

Yet, as a small inkling of Sifo-Dyas' mind thought, those three was all connected somehow.

* * *

 **AN: One chapter a month. Sounds good? That way I can continue this story without my intrest in it waning. Though partially I'm pondering whether to make Anakin Skywalker a significant part of the story or not, considering my dislike for the character.**

 **Nothing personal- Oh wait, yes, VERY personal; man's a psychotic obsessive child-murdering control freak. Even Dooku had more restraint as a Sith than that. Anakin's so-called 'tragic' fall to the dark side was hardly something to be tearful about, at least in my eyes. Even as a kid, there was something about Anakin I detested that I couldn't quite put my finger on.**

 **I don't find willing child killers redeemable, to put it bluntly.**

 **Anyway, next time: A face off between Sith and Sith, one a brutish warrior of fear and the other a sophisticated master of elegance. Until then my friends.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Nothing against Maul, loved the lightsaber duel in Episode I. Enjoy!**

* * *

Something was very wrong.

The Zabrak sensed it the moment he set foot in the bright pristine corridor, his destination towards Naboo Palace's hangar. Yet a strong presence, coated in darkness, halted Maul's path, the Sith Lord stiffening as the Force whispered warnings into his ears. Yellow predatory eyes shifted around the seemingly empy corridor, peaceful as the irritable droids were elsewhere. Gunray had ordered the majority of his troops in the city to defend the lower areas of the palace, where the Jedi will arrive along with the Queen.

But his greatest adversaries, however, seemed to have become the least of Maul's concerns.

His hood still upwards, the wary Zabrak moved forward, slowly, calculatingly. He knew the presence was there, watching his movements. But the fact Maul couldn't see him unnerved him. Not fear, because Maul was fear incarnate. But years of training and mastering his sense kept the Sith cautious.

Cautious enough to sense the danger above, swooping down like the reaper itself.

His gloved hand, having already been gripping his staff of death, pulled out the long hilt, a red blade igniting as Maul whirled around in quick succession, blocking the azure lightsaber. The unknown opponent had leapt down from the ceiling alone, shrouding himself enough for Maul not to sense him. But now this mysterious for revealed himself.

And it only baffled Maul even further. Though that did stop the Zabrak from swiftly delivering a kick to the opponent's midsection, back-flipping a safe distance away. And Maul quickly used that time to analyze his new quarry.

A figure cloaked in a brown robe, a hood protecting his head from the world, the blue blade clearly indicating he was a Jedi. Maul could make out the brown and grey styled beard from the lower half of the face. And while the man had all the appearances of a Jedi, it was his presence in the Force that took the Zabrak temporarily off-guard.

The Dark Side was strong in his opponent, powerful next to that of a Sith...

A hiss escaped Maul's enraged mouth. Who was this pretender to dare try and kill him? He was Darth Maul, Lord of the Sith. Apprentice to the most powerful Dark Lord in history. Yet this hooded figure believed he could defeat him?

Well, he was dreadfully mistaken.

Lowering his hood, taking off the parts of his black robe that would only hinder him, Maul activated the second blade of his saberstaff, spinning his weapon threateningly. If his foe was intimidated by the Zabrak's red and black hateful appearance, or the double-bladed weapon, he didn't show it, and that angered Maul further. Instead, the only reaction this quarry made was what Maul recognized as the Makashi Salute.

And Maul obligated to the silent request, charging at his opponent, the dark side wrapping around him, furthering his power and rage. If this Sith pretender wished to keep his hood up the entire battle, then Maul will happily watch his head roll out of the robe after he's done.

But clearly, his quarry was no pushover, immediately recognizing the Juyo style Maul utilized, and countered it effortlessly. It became quickly notable to the Zabrak, as he pushed his attacks, that this Dark Side impostor favourited Makashi. Maul personally despised the form; it had too many weaknesses and made one look idiotic in battle, with all the pointless twirling that made you look like a Twi'lek dancer.

Yet, this man proved to be a master of the Way of the Ysalamiri, blocking Maul's assaults with all the grace and elegance Makashi had to offer. His quarry blocked, deflected and even redirected Maul's rampaging moves, even efficiently dodging the Zabrak's kicks. Suffice to say, Maul was not amused by the fact this old man was basically toying with the Sith Lord.

No one mocks a master of the darkness and lives to tell the tale.

His adversary jumped at the low swing to his legs, taking a few steps back. Maul was on the offensive, a grin of satisfaction rising on Zabrak's terrifying features as his foe stayed on the defensive. That pathetic flashy Form won't save the pretender forever. After he's dealt with this fool, the Jedi were next.

And yet, this old man was clearly a skilled swordsman, Maul was reluctant to admit. The effectiveness of his parries, the efficient coup-de-graces that the Sith found himself blocking quickly, the elegance in his footwork, advancement and retreat. And the Dark Side surrounded this old man, the pretender drawing power from it with relative ease, and Maul felt the darkness favour him more in this battle, the cold fury a contrast to the Zabrak's volcanic rage.

Just who was this man?

Eventually, their blades crossed, Maul pushing forward with all the strength he thought necessary. But the old man stayed firm, and the Zabrak leaned forward, sneering at his adversary. The hood remained covering the pretender's head, yet Maul could see the firm line his mouth expressed.

Which then shifted into a smirk.

The battle quickly changed around.

Taken aback by the sudden swiftness, the irritated Sith barely had time to react as he desperately blocked the incoming onslaughts, the old man relentless as Maul previously was in his attacks. His mind quickly attempted to process what just occurred; the false darksider had broke apart their saberlock without struggle and was now on the offensive, as though this entire time he was...

Testing him.

Maul found himself even more confused than before, though that did nothing to distract him fron the battle itself. One wrong move and it could be the end of him; this old man was a real geniune threat that Maul had clearly underestimated. Just _who_ was he? An agent of Sidious' sent to test his loyal apprentice? A rogue Sith Lord, wishing to usurp Maul's status as Sidious' disciple? Or a Jedi who had turned to the dark side?

Whoever he was, the Zabrak found himself more and more unnerved by his quarry. Never had he seen someone utilize Makashi with such mastery and grace before. The reaper incarnate.

And it didn't take long for the Sith to finally grasp that he was outmatched, and had been from the very beginning. But he preserved still, a snarl erupting from his tattooed features. A Sith never submits in the heart of battle, not even to someone who appears stronger than him. Maul was succeed, no matter the cost. His Master desired his mission completed.

"Your brother was a more worthy opponent." The old man suddenly spoke up, a rich cultured tone that Maul didn't recognize. And the Zabrak was justifiably confused by his words-

Then Maul found himself suddenly wielding two lightsabers.

A swift uppercut _Sun Djem_ made certain of that, forcing a surprised Maul to leap back in retreat, glancing at both his blades. Luckily, they were both operable, and the Zabrak sneered hatefully towards his impassive quarry, who pointed his blue blade towards. It matters not what usage of Jai'Kai the Sith was now forced to use, Maul was a master of the skill.

Just as he was a master of the Dark Side. And soon his foe will see that-

Maul was then regrettably eating his own words. Charging at the pretender already proved a foolish mistake, perhaps the most deadliest decision the Sith had ever made. Any attempts to return on the offence quickly turned around as the old man deflected the Zabrak's assaults and pressed on his attack. But how? Makashi wasn't efficient enough to block multiple weapons at once-

A snarl of pain roared from Maul's mouth, upon the pretender blocking both blades and raising his free hand towards Maul's chest. Blue cackling painful lightning found its way covering the entirety of the Zabrak's body, the sensation more agonizing than when the power comes from his Master's. And it _stung._

It was at this point, that the Sith Lord finally found himself feeling an emotion alien to him, not felt since he was a child. An emotion no Sith should feel, but instill onto every other living being.

Fear.

And that fear was quickly relieved, after the lightsaber subsided, and Maul found himself feeling a different kind of pain. The pretender- No, _Sith_ \- took the opportunity to cease toying with the Zabrak, plunging his azure blade without delay through his robed chest and out of his backside with an efficient _Shiak_. Maul hissed, knees buckling from the agony, both gloved hands dropping their deactivated 'sabers, yellow eyes widening as the implciations became all too real for him.

This was it. He had failed.

"For my son." The old man spoke softly, sounding both satisfied and... relieved?

There was still time, as Maul felt death already whisper to him whilst he knelt after the blade sunk out of his body. There was still time to know one thing.

"Who... Who are you...?"

The old man looked down upon his fallen foe, and Maul could see more of the face behind the hood from below. His expression was that of distaste and loathing. "The future."

That was the last thing Maul ever heard before a swift _Sai Cha_ relieved him of further pain.

* * *

As a firm believer of the Living Force, Qui-Gon always focused on the moment. Events that occur around him are part of what was to be, which couldn't, and _shouldn't,_ be interfered with.

The blockade over the lushful Naboo was over, the Queen has been restored to power over Theed, the droid control ship destroyed by the Chosen One himself, Viceroy Gunray and his associates have been arrested for the illegal blockade, and peace has been returned to the planet, harmony between the two native species, the Naboo and Gungans, an added bonus atop all these events. Everything went as the Living Force determined.

So then why did Qui-Gon sense that the corpse of the Zabrak Sith wasn't something that should've happened?

Having expected to encounter this skilled warrior upon their infiltration into the city, neither Qui-Gon nor Obi-Wan expected his dead carcass instead waiting for the Jedi. The robed Sith was found lying on the marble floor in the hallway, during their advance towards the throne room. Head decapitated and chest stabbed with precision, it was palpable a lightsaber was responsible for the handiwork.

And that intuition was regrettably correct. As Theed continued with its celebrations, leaving Obi-Wan with Anakin for the two to bond more, despite his student's misgivings, the Jedi Master had decided to meet with Master Yoda and Master Windu, in case they discovered exactly as to how this robed Sith Lord was defeated like this.

The answer was given before he could utter a word.

Qui-Gon could sense his former mentor's presence anywhere, the stench of the darkness surrounding Dooku regardless. Behind these very clean was the room the three Jedi Masters were currently preoccupying, and the Force urged him to take a listen.

No respectable Jedi would choose to eavesdrop on their fellow comrades, but nobody's perfect. The first thing Qui-Gon heard upon carefully creaking the clean door open was Mace's recognizable stern and disapproving voice.

"Not only did you depart for Naboo, using one of the Temple's hangar starfighters without the Council's consent, interfering with Qui-Gon's mission to restore order to Naboo and apprehend the Sith, but you also recklessly challenged this warrior and killed him before even thinking of taking him prisoner. Am I not correct?"

So, it was Dooku. His former Master must've hidden his Force signature the moment they arrived at Theed. Moving the door slightly more so he could see the room more clearly, Qui-Gon took note of seeing only the back of Dooku's body, while the other two Masters could see Qui-Gon peeking in if they weren't distracted with Dooku's rebellious nature.

The cultured Serennian countered Mace's accusations dryly. "Was it not reckless of the Council to dispatch only one Jedi Master and his disciple to apprehend an apparent Sith Lord?"

The Korun's eyes narrowed further. "They were more than capable of dealing with the menace-"

"I see the arrogance of the Jedi blinds you even then, Master Windu." Even then? Qui-Gon frowned. Dooku questioning the actions of the Council was nothing new. the political Serennian had always challenged those whose decisions he believed were absurd or incorrect. But this seemed different somehow. Dooku's shift of tone just then, the palpable disgust.

As if the dark side surrounding his former mentor wasn't enough of a bad sign.

It was clear even the two other Masters sensed, Mace looking tense at the sudden spike of darkness whereas Yoda regarded his former pupil sternly. "Darkness, within you, there is, Dooku. Sensed it, the Council did. Incited you to destroy this Sith Lord, it did."

Qui-Gon's brow raised. Was Yoda implying that the _dark side_ made Dooku kill the Sith warrior? Why would it do that? Did Dooku desire to usurp the Sith, take their place as master of the darkness? Yet when they encountered one another back at the Temple yesterday, the noble Jedi embraced Qui-Gon as one would with family, and the Jedi Master sensed the relief and content radiating from Dooku at the touch.

It was evident to the Jedi Master; there was darkness in Dooku, but not enough that had consumed the man.

"I did not require the Dark Side to defeat that mindless brute of a Sith." Dooku corrected Yoda sharply. "That Zabrak's fighting style was savage and sloppy in its swordsmanship. It was almost insulting to even test his skills." The criticism incited a slight smile on Qui-Gon's lips. No matter who the opponent was, Dooku would always take note of their combat skills and point out where to improve. "And you are incorrect, Master Yoda, regardless. I took care of that warrior for other reasons that are, quite frankly, none of your or the Council's concern."

And there was a nudge from the Force that gave Qui-Gon an inkling that he knew the true reason himself.

"No matter your reason." Mace said, sounding more irritated and stern than ever. "It is clear that you're embracing the darkness with little restraint, causing you to talk this way back at us like this. As for the Sith, I believe the answer might just be obvious." The Vaapad master pointed accusingly at the unfazed Dooku. "You intend to replace the Sith yourself. I don't know where or how you obtained this kind of mastery in the Dark Side, but you may as well be a Sith Lord currently."

"Very perceptive."

Mace ignored the sarcasm. "You will return to Coruscant immediately, there we'll uncover the cause behind this sudden darkness within you and do our best to remove it-"

"'Remove it'? Master Windu, you imply that this power is some kind of disease."

The Korun glared, not at all enjoying the mocking tone. "The Dark Side decays and kills everything in its path. To allow it to spread would bring destruction to the galaxy-"

"Would it though?" Dooku challenged, and Qui-Gon imagined the Master raising an unimpressed brow. "Or is that simply how the egotistical Jedi view what they don't understand? Your ignorance has always astounded me, Master Windu, along with your palpable contempt for the natural side of the Force."

"There is _nothing_ natural about the Dark Side." Mace stepped forward, almost threateningly. "And if you continue to allow this _disease_ to spread, now we shall be forced to remove it from you with force."

Alright, Qui-Gon knew he had to intervene. Fully opening the large doors, the Master barely acknowledged his presence as he entered. "Masters." The Ataru master bowed respectively.

"You see, Masters? The Jedi behind you would have been dead by now had I not killed that Sith Lord for you. But I suppose gratitude is a lost art to the oh so humble Jedi nowadays." Dooku's voice was dripping with venom, folding his arms towards the glaring Vaapad specialist. "Qui-Gon would be dead by now because of your arrogance. But this time, I managed to prevent that tragedy."

This time? To say Qui-Gon was confused by his former teacher's words would be an understatement.

Even Yoda seemed curious. "Know more than you are willing to share, are you, Dooku?"

The Serennian barely glanced at the Grand Master. "More than you can possibly understand..."

"This is getting us nowhere." Mace then announced, sounding flat out annoyed with Dooku's attitude. "I'm sorry, Master Yoda, but regardless of what the Force requests of us, we can't have him walking around in the Temple, now with this much darkness occupying his soul. He must be detained."

Qui-Gon felt himself internally protesting. But half of him agreed on Mace's caution. Imagine a darksider interacting with the Jedi, potentially poisoning the youth with deceit and teaching of the forbidden arts.

"Implying I have any intention of returning back." Dooku snapped, condescendingly. "Your precious Temple hasn't been my home in many years, Master Windu. And it shall continue that way, now that I have been given another chance to right the wrong."

That said, the Serennian swiftly turned around, the Qui-Gon finally took note of the convicted face. "And where do you think you're going?" Mace called out as Dooku walked by, Qui-Gon stepping out of the way for his former mentor to pass.

Purposely ignoring the question, Dooku paused and shifted his attention fully on Qui-Gon, and the Jedi Master was relieved by the lack of yellow in the Makashi master's eyes. As though disregarding the fact there were two Jedi Masters nearby, Dooku placed a firm hand on his former student's shoulder, expression now that of pride.

"Qui-Gon, I don't believe there are enough words to express how proud I am of you." Dooku began, the tone more lighter than the conversation with the two Masters observing them. His dark strong eyes bore into Qui-Gon's calm orbs. "You have always been my greatest accomplishment, and I am proud to call you my friend... and my son. However, be warned; staying with this corrupt order will do you, your apprentice or your apparent Chosen One no favours. It is time you decided the future, instead of allowing the blinded Council to do so for you."

Releasing his former pupil, Dooku resumed his gaze on the hallway outside. "Both Jedi and Sith are as corrupt and wrong as the other. For the galaxy to evolve and achieve peace, both sides, along with the greedy corporation of a Senate, must be cast aside for a new galactic order. For as long as they remain, refusing to adapt to these changing times, there will never be balance with the Force. I leave Skywalker in your capable hands, hopefully he'll be taught proper discipline than when Kenobi trained him. May the Force be with you, my son."

Qui-Gon desired desperately to comment back, to tell Dooku that he was wrong on many accounts about the Jedi, that he didn't need to leave, and peace can be accomplished without the order being wiped out. Yet something held him back, the Living Force commanding the Jedi Master not to interfere with Dooku's departure.

As if destiny had other things in store for the bold Serennian.

"And so departs the Lost Twenty..." Qui-Gon heard Mace mutter, in a tone the Vaapad master normally didn't use, as they watch Dooku leave down the corridor, and it was either his imagination or there was a hint of sorrow in the Korun's voice.

Wherever the Force was guiding Dooku now, Qui-Gon wished him the best as Dooku wished of him.

Perhaps some mediation later will help Qui-Gon decipher Dooku's meaning about Obi-Wan training Anakin before.

"May the Force be with you... father."

* * *

 _One month later..._

* * *

Sifo-Dyas sensed the presence even before arriving to where his ship waited, saying farewell to Lamu Su when departing to leave this stormy planet. Thankfully, the Force seemed merciful today as the weather over Kamino was clearer than Sifo-Dyas's knowledge of the ocean world had shown. But the real threat here might be the absent ruthless rain and lightning that generally bombarded the planet.

It would be the dark side presence waiting for him.

The Jedi Master kept one firm hand on the hilt of his weapon, ready to ignite the saber should the hooded figure try anything. Besides his own starfighter stood a ship Sifo-Dyas couldn't recognize the design of, but it was clear the transport was a work of high quality, by starship standards. The Jedi had to repress a small smile; even after leaving the order, he still hasn't lost his touch.

"Dooku."

The addressed figure, standing between both ships patiently with folded arms, acknowledged his name with a nod, before removing the hood. The features remained the same as the Jidi last saw of him, before the Serennian departed for Naboo and defeated the Sith menace. He hadn't been seen for a whole month since, until now.

Sifo-Dyas had identified the signature without too much difficulty; the moment it became within reach. But it still raised many questions, the Jedi Master thought to himself while his hand remained on his weapon still. How did Dooku find him? What did he know about Kamino? Was this mere coincidence, or did the Will of the Force choose for them to meet here? And more importantly, does Dooku possibly suspect what his longtime friend was planning, what he had done?

"You've been busy, old friend." The former Jedi spoke civilly, as the two approached one another, one still wary while the other seemed as calm and composed as a noble would. Following his sudden abrupt departure from the Order, Dooku had reclaimed his title as Count and all the fortune that came with it in one day. It's as if the Serennian had planned it from the very beginning.

"As have you." Sifo-Dyas replied with a more steel edge to the tone, gesturing the very ship Dooku had evidently arrived in. "Your fortunes have proved promising."

"A gift from the Archduke of Geonosis." Dooku commented pleasantly, glancing over his shoulder at the elegant transport in question. "He was impressed by my knowledge of Geonosian culture, and presented this ship exclusively made by his kind." Strong brown eyes returned on Sifo-Dyas, and the Jedi felt relieved, at least, that there wasn't even a tinge of yellow in those orbs.

The dark side was as strong in Dooku - No, Count Dooku - as Sifo-Dyas last encountered him in the Temple halls a month ago. The unpleasant side of the Force pulsing within the former Master without restraint. Sifo-Dyas had to wonder, what fate had befallen as to give his old friend so much darkness? Had the seeds been planted long before, somewhere during the time of Galidraan?

"What has happened to you, Dooku?" The curious and concerned Jedi finally spoke his mind, releasing his gripped lightsaber slowly. There was no hostility from his old friend, that much the Jedi could sense. "The dark side is incredibly strong in you, as though it has been mastered for many years."

A moment's silence, before Dooku broke it with a sigh. Not a sigh of sadness or regret, but one of calmness. "Your concern is noted, and appreciated, Sifo, but entirely unnecessary. This power within me has no control over my being. I am its master, not it pawn unlike the Sith. Which is why I'm here."

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Then I shall explain: I know why you're here, old friend. You've just commissioned an army for the Republic from the Kaminoans, have you not?" Sifo-Dyas's eyes widened. How-? Dooku smiled patiently, "Your thoughts betray you, Sifo. I've always known about your concerns for the Republic. Admirable, but misguided. The Republic is nothing more than a decaying mess, a constant storm of internal struggles and greed ruled by the most corrupt and conceited of Senators."

Sifo-Dyas resisted the urge to smile in exasperation at Dooku's usual criticism towards the Galactic Senate.

"But you fear the looming threat over the Republic, threatening to plunge the galaxy into eternal darkness." The Jedi Master slowly nodded, admittedly intrigued as to where the new Count was going with this. Dooku's features then shifted, frowning in conviction. "Yet you, along with the rest of the foolish Jedi, failed to grasp that has always been a Sith Lord under your very noses." Could he mean himself? "The very same Sith Lord who has been a key factor in manipulating you into commissioning this Clone Army."

"What?" Sifo-Dyas said in disbelief, failing to understand his old friend. "Dooku, what do you mean exactly?"

Dooku smiled thinly. "The current Chancellor your precious Republic praises is the Sith Lord the Jedi are seeking out." The Count's smile grew as Sifo-Dyas's face turned white. "And you've done exactly as he wanted."

The Jedi Master felt like he had been punched in the stomach, seeking out calmness from the Force. The light side soothed the aged man as he contemplated Dooku's words. It shouldn't be true, it couldn't be possible, yet the Force claimed otherwise. Sifo-Dyas can sense the truth emitting from Dooku's tongue. Palpatine... Palpatine was the Lord of Darkness the Jedi sought to purge from the galaxy, and had played them all for fools.

It's all making sense now. The blockade on Naboo, the Sith attacker against Qui-Gon on Tatooine, Queen Amidala's Vote of No Confidence against the previous Chancellor Valorum. The truth was unwrapping like bandages in Sifo-Dyas's mind.

"His true title is Darth Sidious." Dooku continued after a moment, allowing the Jedi to let this information sink in. "Just as the former Muun you've known as Hego Damask was known as Darth Plagueis, Sidious's mentor."

Damask! The same Sith who had provided the information about Kamino and the cloners here in the first place. Sifo-Dyas thought back to that conversation on Serenno long ago, between himself and the Magister of Damask Holdings. The Muun had subtly incited the Jedi to confess his concerns about the Republic slowly, his desire to the defend the very same democracy that has stood strong for a thousand years. As if the breathing mask Sifo-Dyas later saw Damask in many years later wasn't enough of an indication about his true identity.

Which means that his presence here was all panned out by the Sith. They wanted the worried Sifo-Dyas to commission a Grand Army for the Republic under his name, in an obvious desire for the army themselves. The Jeid had never felt more foolish in his entire life.

"If what you say is true, then we must warn the Council immediately." Sifo-Dyas said determinedly, yet Dooku seemed to express an exasperated face in response to that statement. The Jedi would not relent, though. "That Sith Lord is in very control of the government and peace the Jedi strive to defend. With his power, there will be nothing but chaos for the galaxy."

"Spoken like a true Jedi." Dooku shook his head disapprovingly. "Without any evidence towards Sidious's identity, blinding throwing accusations towards the endeared Chancellor won't bode well for the Order, old friend. Sidious has hidden his true self well, you will find little proof in disclosing his identity. It's a fool's errand."

The convicted Jedi shook his head. "Regardless, we must act. The Sith must be removed from political power immediately." It was a relief, at least, that the other Sith Lord was dead. Not just the Zabrak assassin on Naboo, but Damask as well. Both Sith Lords seemed to have died at the same time, Damask was announced dead on Coruscant by an accident. But who knows how many other Sith were out there. "This Darth Sidious obviously wants this army for a purpose, and what better way to use it than... No..."

No... He wouldn't...

Dooku nodded gravely as the implication hit the unnerved Jedi with full force. "Yes, an army big enough to wipe out the Jedi in one swift stroke. A frightful image, is it not? But it would be pointless to attempt exposing Sidious; he may be removed from power, but the corruption has remained there, like a cancer, on the Republic long before his birth."

"Then you suggest I don't act?" Sifo-Days asked in palpable disbelief, unwilling to listen to this man for a second. "Palpatine- No, Sidious, is planning the Jedi's demise right this second, and to take control of the galaxy without any resistance against him. He must be stopped."

"Oh I agree." Dooku said, gesturing for calmness. The unnerved Jedi allowed the Force to soothe him once again, washing away the dread Sifo-Dyas was feeling from this news. "And I have every intention in stopping him, which is why I need your help."

Sifo-Dyas frowned. "You said it was pointless."

"To expose him in the open, yes. We must use his subtle manipulations against him. I plan to remove him from power and replace the Republic with a more stronger and stable society at once." Dooku expressed amusement at his old friend's expression. "Do not misunderstand me, I have no intention in harming anyone, but in order for there to be peace in the galaxy, the Republic _must_ change. Evolve. The Jedi too; they have been so stuck in their old ways they've failed to notice the corruption plaguing your precious Republic, and the Sith Lord ruling the pinnacle of it all."

"While I am inclined to disagree with your views over the Republic and Jedi, old friend, I desire to have the Sith Lord removed from office as soon as possible." Sifo-Dyas folded his arms, hearing a clashing storm in the distance. It'll arrive into the city soon. "And this still doesn't explain the Dark Side within you."

"Ah, explaining my power over the darkness will take a long time to discuss, and I'm afraid time is rather off the essence while conspiring against the Sith Lord. Suffice to say, it's more appropriate to face fire with fire." Walking closer, Dooku held out an aging hand, expression sincere and composed. "But I know I can't destroy him alone, so I've been working nonstop in planning the downfall of Sidious. So I propose we cooperate in the removal of this threat. What do you think?"

"Circumventing the Council either further." Sifo-Dyas shook his head, looking slightly amused himself. "Say we remove this Sith, then what? You take his place and conquer the galaxy?"

"You know me too well." Dooku shrugged elegantly, unfazed by the accusatory tone. "I desire a peaceful free society for all in the galaxy, the decaying Republic replaced by a more stable community. Removing Sidious will be the first step towards this goal."

...It wasn't a choice Sifo-Dyas made easily. The former Jedi seemed completely sincere in his words and actions, the Force reassuring the Jedi Master of Dooku's intentions. Yet, the everlasting darkness in him, and the subtle yet obvious contempt for the Sith leaking through Dooku's tongue while saying that name kept Sifo-Dyas on edge. It was clear the Count of Serreno had some sort of grievance against this Darth Sidious, but what for, and why?

Perhaps he'll learn in time. And, if the Force allows it, Sifo-Dyas can save his old friend from the pulsating darkness within him. This was an opportunity only a fool would decline.

"Very well." The Jedi Master finally decided, gripping Dooku's offered hand, and they shook equally. "I will aid you in defeating this Sidious, but I'm afraid as for your goal towards the Republic itself, you'r eon your own with."

Dooku nodded, as if expecting that answer. "Of course. I knew I could rely on you, Sifo. It has been too long since we last worked together."

The genuine sentimental tone incited Sifo-Dyas's nod and slight smile. "The feeling is mutual, old friend. How shall we proceed?"

Dooku, walking around the Jedi, gestured elegantly towards the large dome towards them. "We shall begin by turning Sidious's arriving army against him."

* * *

 **AN: I don't believe for a minute Dooku would have a hard time against Maul. An experienced master of sole lightsaber combat with over six decades of training, while classed as the Order's greatest duelist, against a brutish predator who allows his own emotions and confidence to get the better of him? The victory was a landslide without question.**

 **Feel free to disagree.**

 **Anyway, the wheels are now set in motion. How will Sidious react to the new competition aside from the Jedi Order? How will Anakin's upbringing and training be affected differently now with Qui-Gon teaching him? How does Dooku intend on defeating the decaying Republic and all its corrupt politicians? All of that and more shall be show on the next chapter.**

 **Until next time my friends!**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: I'm not good with political aspects, far from it. But I'm willing to make an attempt.**

* * *

"Your concerns are noted and understandable, Chairman Hill." Palaptine said patiently, while Sidious desired to rip the haughty Muun's throat for wasting his time with this drivel. "But you must understand, the Republic's debt will be repaid after the resolve on Kashyyyk has been dealt with."

But of course, the arrogant banker's impatience got the best of him. The Muun pointed a long slender finger towards the Supreme Chancellor. "I could care less for the welfare of a backwater planet. These are precisely the excuses your predecessor made during his term of office. For over five years now the Republic has been in our debt, and the Banking Clan is at its wit's end."

"And we are grateful for the credits you have provided us with." Palpatine assured the irritable Muun smoothly. Plagueis certainly taught San Hill well over how to be a vocal inconvenience.

It was the third time this week the Chairman made a visit to the chancellor's office, demanding an explanation over why the promised repayment of the Banking Clan's loans has been postponed again. Gradually, Palpatine felt a headache come on with all these infrequent visits by the obnoxious Muun. The price he must pay for this position of power.

When Sidious establishes his new Empire, he promises to suck the Banking Clan dry and out of commission. At least then he'll have one less headache to deal with.

"And how do you return that gratitude? By not repaying the debt and asking for even more credits!" The young Chairman - young by his species standards - had the audacity to slam the surface of the Chancellor's desk. "Had you not considered my proposal of repaying the loan you owe us through the taxes of the free trade routes Valorum had installed?"

The native from Naboo blew breath from his nostrils. "Rest assured, the Banking Clan's willingness to lend the Republic credits in these crucial times will not go undeserved. The credits your bank has provided us with will ensure the Wookiee natives of Kashyyyk will rebuild and recover from their horrific ordeal over that Trandoshan invasion. In time, the debts will be repaid, along with much more."

"Oh, my heart bleeds for them." Hill snorted, rising up from his chair. "I wonder if replacing Valorum with you was a sensible decision on the Senate's apart; you conjure up the same sorry excuses as he did. Good day Chancellor."

Sidious waited for the ungrateful Muun to leave the office before the facade dropped, a scowl overtaking his features. There was another ten minutes before he had a meeting with the Senator from Anaxes, giving him little time to dwell.

But while he had the opportunity.

It has been over a year now since the Battle of Naboo. Viceroy Gunray was to have his twelfth trial next week, still proclaiming innocence over the entire blockade affair. Quite frankly, Sidious was both satisfied and mystified by the idiocy of Gunray's sympathizers, the Neimoidian who was clearly the one in charge of the blockade.

As all save for a few were led to believe.

But currently, the Neimoidian was the least of Sidious's problems. No, a dilemma stemmed instead by one certain disillusioned Jedi. The same rogue noble from Serenno who hasn't answered any of the Sith's requests for communication and has kept quiet from galactic affairs ever since he reclaimed his title and house.

Dooku.

When Maul's life expired by the hands of the sophisticated noble, Sidious was reeling in shock. The man had never informed Palpatine he knew of Maul's existence, or had intended to go to Naboo and kill the Sith warrior. Sidious had watched the holo-recordings of the duel between the two darksiders, as he was skeptical at first over Windu's claim that Dooku dispatched of the Zabrak.

Watching the Dooku sadistically toyed around with the frustrated warrior, mocking and torturing him before delivering the finishing blow, with a brutal decapitation. It admittedly brought a pleased smile to Sidious's face. There was no further doubt; Dooku was a Sith. And while it showed how powerful and potentially capable the Serennian was to the Sith Lord's plans, it also unnerved Darth Sidious to no end.

Who taught Dooku this power? When? If Dooku had been aware of Maul, was he then perhaps aware of the Zabrak's master? Had the now-deceased Plagueis trained another disciple in the shadows, after all, to avenge him in case Sidious killed the Muun?

Too many questions, too little answers. And it infuriated Sidious to no end. Almost as much as it infuriated him on Sifo-Dyas's disappearance from the Jedi.

Dooku was either an asset, or a threat. And with the way he was blatantly ignoring Palpatine's calls, it seemed to lean more towards the latter. It'd be a shame; Dooku was the ideal placeholder candidate until Sidious found someone more worthy to replace the old fool. Either the Jedi destroy the Serennian for him, in case Dooku rejects his offer as Sidious's new pupil, or the Dark Lord finds a more promising apprentice to deal with Dooku and help him reform the Republic into his new Empire.

That is, if Dooku continued not answering his calls.

* * *

Save for only being physically a decade younger, the Count of Serenno felt like nothing had changed when sitting by this desk.

Leaning on interlocked fingers, Dooku had his eyes closed in contemplation, thinking back on events from travelling through time. And the more he thought that to himself, the more plausible it appeared to be. Because what else could explain it? Qui-Gon was alive, as well as Sifo-Dyas, along the countless millions the Count had either killed himself or disposed of during his time as a Sith.

That's not to say Dooku was no longer a Lord of the Sith, but still.

It felt rather like dream, every time the Count thought back to saving his greatest pupil's life from the brutish warrior. Maul's demise was proper reassurance that Qui-Gon would live, the only Jedi fit enough to train the reckless and irresponsible brat known as Skywalker.

The so-called Chosen One. Dooku's lips curled in distaste just thinking about the boy. Unfortunately, the child was a part of his legacy now, despite these changes Dooku had caused. Qui-Gon was adamant about training the boy since retrieving him from Tatooine, and was no doubt doing so as Dooku thought. Though, saving the Maverick Jedi's life wasn't done for the boy who had decapitated the Count in another timeline.

Qui-Gon was alive, and that was all that mattered.

That reality brought a sense of relief in Dooku alongside... elation? Now there was an emotion the Count hadn't felt in quite a while. The aged Sith opened his eyes, regarding the polished surface of his black desk curiously.

That boy always brought out the worse in Dooku's behaviour. Specifically the sides of him the Count was more comfortable not displaying.

Moving on. Next is now the survival of Sifo-Dyas. Sidious had demanded the Jedi Master's death as Dooku's test to prove himself. But this time, that was no longer the case. Sifo-Dyas lives to this day, even now, doing as his old friend requested in conspiring to take down the Sith Lord controlling the Republic.

Ah yes, Sidious. The Count continued for over two years now to ignore the relentless holocalls of his former master, who was clearly adamant in recruiting Dooku to his cause. That prompted the sneer on Dooku's face. He will never be fooled again by that old man. Sidious will fall. And the diseased Republic will follow suit, broken down and rebuilt from the ground up, into a stable non-corrupt democracy where all systems of the galaxy can co-exist peacefully without those anchoring it to the chains of corruption.

Hence why the Separatist movement was still being created.

Dooku had told Qui-Gon he'd go about things differently, and so he shall, but not completely. Many of the Confederacy had firmly followed his convictions that the Republic must be cleaned, evolving from the past into a new era. But this time, some changes will be made. Dooku will have no further need for the leaders of the business corporations he planned on recruiting to his cause; they will be replaced forthwith after the Republic is rebuilt anew.

Yes, Sidious will be destroyed. And the Jedi will follow, by their own volition, should they refuse to adapt to change. But with Qui-Gon around, perhaps now they will see past beyond their blindness and arrogance.

Leaning back on his seat, the Count made a movement to begin a holocall. It will take years for the Separatist cause to be created once more, but Dooku was nothing if not patient. For now, there was work to be done, and every moment was critical. Sifo-Dyas was preoccupied carrying out a task Dooku had lent him.

Archduke Poggle the Lesser of Geonosis and Wat Tambor of the Techno Union have expressed interest to rallying with a cause against the Republic, and Dooku intended on inviting the Corporate Alliance into the fold later today. But first, it was time to call on the services of that bounty hunter he encountered on Galidraan all those years ago, once again.

* * *

"Anakin, you've acting too rashly." Qui-Gon called out not unkindly to his student, "Djem-So requires focus and control."

His eleven-year-old Padawan nodded, taking a deep breath, exhaling and resumed the famous Form V opening stance. At Qui-Gon's nod, the boy tried again, and it brought a sense of pride within the aged Jedi Master over how progressive his Padawan was becoming.

Two years at this Temple had trained the boy well. When Obi-Wan was knighted after the Battle of Naboo, Qui-Gon was quick and adamant in training Anakin to become a Jedi, despite the Council's continuous protests. Eventually, they relented, knowing the Maverick Jedi had his former Master's stubborn streak. And already his tutelage seemed to be paying off; Anakin's impatience and brashness at first had been cooled down by the teachings.

"Feel the Force guide your movements." Qui-Gon continued instructing his listening student, observing from the side. "Concentrate on the opposition now, than dwell on the consequences of the aftermath."

Admittedly, the Jedi Master was a little disappointed by Anakin's lack of interest towards Ataru. But it was evident that the boy was more than natural utilizing the techniques and prowess of Djem So. So, only a mere year later when Anakin completed Shii-Cho, Qui-Gon aided his Padawan's training with the heavy form, which required kinetic energy to use; and the Chosen One was nothing if not energetic.

"Very good." He nodded his approval at Anakin's next moves swinging through midair. "Keep this up, and we'll have you try against a training droid, perhaps even a fellow Padawan, should you continue practicing the form."

"Careful, Master, that might just go to his head."

Stern eyes turned to his cheeky former student, who had approached Qui-Gon while watching the session as well. The fact Obi-Wan's braid was no longer there was still something the Jedi Master was unused to, and it admittedly unnerved him a little. Despite Obi-Wan's clear bitterness to believing he was simply replaced by Qui-Gon for Anakin, the young man accepted his knighthood in stride, expressing how proud he was by handing over Qui-Gon his former braid. The older Jedi still recalled the proceedings as though they were yesterday...

"There's no harm in indulging a student with a little ambition, Obi-Wan."

The younger Jedi's lips thinned, arms folded whilst they continued watching the eleven-year-old. "Many other Jedi would disagree."

"While many others would agree." Qui-Gon shrugged, a small smile raised at his student's hard efforts.

Obi-Wan then decided to get straight to the point. "The Council wishes to speak with you again, no doubt regarding over Ma- Dooku." He quickly corrected himself over addressing the now-Count by his former title.

A breath of frustration flew from the older Jedi's nostrils. Ever since his abrupt departure and reclaiming his house and title on Serenno, Dooku had disappeared from the face of the galaxy itself, eluding the Jedi spies dispatched from the Council to keep an eye on him. While many were relieved that the dark presence within the Temple was no longer around, Qui-Gon still felt a prickling sensation through the Force whenever wondering about the man. It was Dooku's faith in Qui-Gon about training Anakin that furthered the Maverick Jedi's resolve.

But to make matters worse, more and more planets have been seceding form the Republic for the first time in a thousand years, inexplicably declaring their independence and wishing to have nothing else to do with the corruption in the system. And Qui-Gon knew, either by the Will of the Force or by gut feeling, that the disappearance of his former master and these rapid system's declared independence was no coincidence.

Nothing was ever truly a coincidence.

While Qui-Gon was curious and concerned for his former mentor, it brought irritation to the Jedi Master over how many times the Council requested he aided them in learning what Dooku's planning. It was getting quite ridiculous. No, scratch that, it was getting ridiculous, full stop.

"Then who am I to deny the Council's wishes?" Qui-Gon asked dryly, inciting Obi-Wan's mouth to twitch upwards. Thankfully, his former Padawan didn't hold that much resentment towards him, though Qui-Gon wished Obi-Wan would cease this childish behaviour of his and understand the importance of Anakin's training.

His current student, meanwhile, obviously picking up his master's frustrations, deactivated his training blade and looked over curiously. "Is something wrong, Master?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "It's nothing, the Council simply wants to speak with me." Then, on a whim, he inclined his head towards his previous student. "Obi-Wan here will oversee your practice until I return."

As expected, the young man gaped in disbelief. "Master, I don't think-"

"That you're capable of watching over an eleven-year-old Padawan for a moment or so? Nonsense." Patting the younger annoyed Jedi's shoulder, Qui-Gon moved over towards the doors. "I shall return shortly, Anakin. And remember, focus and control."

They'll get along fine. If not, then Qui-Gon can always recount to Anakin one of his former student's misadventures.

Now then, time to see what the exasperation Council wanted this time.

* * *

Elsewhere, a young Jedi's training was on a whole other practical level.

"Padawan! Stay sharp!" The old Jedi yelled over the battle, deflecting another blaster bolt back to its owner. "They won't give up so easily!"

"Yes master!" A young pale Dathomirian followed her mentor's order, cutting down another Weequay across the chest. The old human nodded, silently regretting the deaths of these bandits. But whatever was necessary to liberate Rattatak of its corrupt warlords.

"Young one, on your right!" She quickly obliged and blocked a few more shots. "Don't let your emotions cloud what's at stake here. Remember, we're doing this for the people, a Jedi doesn't take satisfaction in killing!"

"Yes master!" And Ky felt a small smile on his face at his pupil's concentration, effortlessly deflecting another shot through the chest of its owner.

This village was soon to be liberated of these unwanted guests. The warlords were clearly adamant in ridding Rattatak of its two Jedi guests, but they held firm. Enough people have suffered on this world by the warlord's oppression, and Ky Narec will be damned, after crashing on this warmongering world for a few years now, before he allows the people to endure the suffering any further.

"Master! Behind you!" His young pupil called out in panic after meeting his brief stare.

Immediately the Jedi Master whirled around to face his opponent, a smirking Weequay who somehow approached closely, holding up his blaster. Yet Ky merely raised a brow at the blue blade piercing through out of the minion's chest, sensing a Jedi presence he hadn't felt in years.

"Master Sifo-Dyas." He greeted the newcomer casually, both puzzled and rather relieved by his fellow Jedi's sudden arrival."

"Master Narec, it's good to see you again." The younger Master nodded, followed by a blaster bolt zooming by his shoulder. Immediately, the two Jedi resumed in fighting off the remaining Weequay, who were clearly dismayed by the arrival of another dreaded Jedi.

The pleasantries can wait.

But they didn't have to wait too long, with the combined help of Sifo-Dyas, the bandits were quickly retreating to the further parts of town. Sensing no other hostile presences around for a moment, the three Jedi deactivated their blades, the young Dathomirian rushing down to meet her teacher and the newcomer.

"Master, they're retreated! Should we pursue them?"

Sensing how eager his Padawan was, Ky placed a firm grip on the child's shoulder. "We will rest first, Asajj. The village will be liberated soon, I promise you. For now, see if any of the people here need some assistance."

The young student nodded, and after glancing at the new arrival curiously for a moment, obediently walking away to some of the houses.

"A Dathomirian." Sifo-Dyas pointed out in interest.

Ky nodded, "Yes, I found her while liberating another village. She displayed remarkable Force talent, and it would have been unwise of me not to train her." That said, he turned to face his fellow comrade and shook a firm grip. "It's good to see you, after so long. Though I ponder as to how you've found me. My ship crashed here long ago, and my mission wasn't on the records."

Sifo-Dyas nodded in turn, "My arrival here wasn't at the behest of the Council, Ky. I'm here on behalf of the former Jedi you've known as Master Dooku."

At this, Ky's brow raised even higher, but he wasn't all that surprised. "Ah, so he finally left the Order?"

The other Jedi's lips twitched in amusement. "Indeed. He has inherited his house and title on Serenno, and requested me to seek you out."

"Well then, what may I ask does the esteemed Count want from me?" Ky and Dooku never really spoke back at the Temple, only ever having to work together on a mission to Bothuwai long ago. Other than that, Ky failed to grasp any reason as to why Dooku wishes to retrieve him.

And for that matter, how did Dooku know he was on Rattatak?

At the question, Sifo-Dyas frowned heavily, and Ky noted the serious expression. "You've been away from galactic affairs for a while now, Ky, and I think it's time you returned. We need your help. Yours and your Padawan. The Republic and the Order are in serious danger."

At this, the older Master couldn't help but feel unnerved by the tone. Whatever was occuring back on Coruscant, must be dangerous indeed. "What trouble are we facing, exactly?"

"The Sith."

And that was all Ky needed to hear. He frowned just as deeply as Sifo-Dyas, folding his arms. Just mentioning the name of their ancient enemies was enough to put any Jedi on edge. "So, they're returned then."

It was a statement. Sifo-Dyas nodded. "I'm very much afraid so. And we have a Dark Lord of the Sith currently sitting in the chair of the Supreme Chancellor."

 _What?!_

But before Ky could demand a detailed explanation, Asajj ran towards them in a hurry, "Master! They're coming back!" Both Jedi closed their eyes, and nodded, sensing the return of the Weequay along with reinforcements.

Ky then glanced at Sifo-Dyas. "This will have to wait. And we must liberate Rattatak first before dealing with this Sith menace." At that statement, the young Dathomirian's eyes widened in question and horror.

The younger Jedi Master nodded. "Very well. That was also the reason Dooku dispatched me here. I will help you deal with this world's warlords."

Ky nodded in turn, glad to have another fellow Jedi back them up. At the sounds of speeder engines from the distance, and the panicked yells of people returning to their homes, the three Jedi ignited their blades, two green and one blue charging forward to the opposing forces.

The liberation of Rattatak had begun.

* * *

 **AN: My apologies for the late chapter. I was preoccupied with Christmas and the new film, after all. Which, by the way, Episode VII was utterly amazing. I thoroughly enjoyed it. By the time the credits rolled, that was then my Christmas was over for me. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I certainly hoped you're having a fantastic New Year!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: And now we return to the world of EU. Not that I don't like the new continuity, but it's just that the old canon had more information and helps out a lot in this fic.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Blades of red hummed and sizzled, illuminating the dark chamber housing the female leader of the dreaded Bando Gora, battling an aged Sith Lord.

"You should never have come, old man."

"Your talk is more noteworthy than your bladework, my old pupil."

Across the room they danced, lightsabers blazing glowing red slashing and parrying, the impactful noises echoing the otherwise empty chamber. Former Master and apprentice, one fallen for the sake of the galaxy, the other from her own aggressive nature and the tortures of her previous captors, the darkness shrouding and fueling their powers as they waltzed to the death.

Of course, this was no real competition to Dooku. Vosa, while skilled, lacked the finesse and true understand of saber combat. Hence the Count was able to swiftly and without sweat parry and deflect the twirling blades. The young woman, eyes yellow and hair white as snow, relied too much on her own passion to the fight, making numerous follies to her own work that Dooku easily exploited.

Jar'Kai. Such an overused and ridiculous tactic.

"Only a true swordsman would rely on one lightsaber alone to achieve mastery, young one." The Count chided his former student upon saber-lock. As the snarling Vosa desperately pushed, Dooku scowled and twirled his blade rapidly, forcing the aggressive woman to whirl around, taking a few steps back to breathe.

As it happened int he previous timeline, Komari Vosa had secluded herself within the confines of this palace, among one of the moons of Bogden: Kohlma. Nothing this time had changed about his disappointing former pupil; Vosa was as savage and lustful for combat as he remembered. That Fett managed to best a Jar-Kai practitioner would've spoke volumes, if said duelist was a master of the skill.

Alas, she hadn't changed at all. Though this time, Dooku planned on rectifying his previous mistake.

Without delay, his own red saber countered Vosa's flurry assaults, one hand behind his back with the Force did most of the work for him. The dark side encouraged his unstable student, indulging her desire for retribution against her former Master.

"You did this to me!" Vosa all but screamed, rage roaring from her scarred throat. "Had you granted me the position of Knight. But no; you and that dogmatic Order were afraid of me! Afraid of my abilities!"

"That was hardly the case." Dooku's brown eyes narrowed at the false accusation. "You were far too eager for bloodshed, longing to indulge your passions and flirtation with the darkness. I had acted accordingly."

Never mind her unnerving infatuation for _him._

"And now, Master, you will see what that passion can do!"

"I look forward to it."

The duel proceeded, but it was clear to any observer that Dooku had the higher ground in this fight. Like Maul, Vosa was too focused on her own rage and prowess to keep a calm and calculating head in battle, and that will be her undoing. And more disappointment swelled up within the Sith at Vosa's lack of adequate combat. Oh he recalled how often he praised the young woman's adept skills and tacticians. But now? He was hardly flattered by this result of his training.

A small part of Dooku blamed himself.

Alright, he had enough.

As Vosa, raised her blade upwards, with his free hand Dooku used the Force to halt the next assault, his saber blocking her other spinning in rapid succession, forcing the activated hilt to fly out of Vosa's hand and harmlessly on the stone floor. Before the darksider could retaliate, blue bolts of lightning emerged from his open palm, the shocked and pained scream of his former disciple echoing the dark throne room.

The assault flew the woman across the chamber, forcing her to land hard on the stone steps in front of the large window overlooking the moon outside. As Vosa groaned, attempting to recover from Dooku's effective Force attack, the Sith Lord approached his downed student.

And an activated red blade pointed at her throat before she could sit up. Brown calm eyes stared into yellow enraged orbs. Allowing the gravity of the situation to sink into his former pupil's mind at first, Dooku spoke coolly, "I expected more from you, Komari."

The young woman snarled, refusing to express fear in the face of the one who 'betrayed' her, "Finish me..."

The demand prompting the Serennian to smile slightly, "And get rid of an asset. You underestimate your former Master... And perhaps your current; should you choose to serve me once more."

Yellow eyes brightened, "And why would I do that?"

A pause, before Dooku admitted something he should've done long ago. "Because I made a mistake." Vosa's featured frowned, and the Count clarified calmly, "In thinking you were unready for the ascension to Jedi Knight, and that your passion for combat would only prove fruitless. And I apologize for not realizing your full potential sooner."

"You... Apologize..." The blatant confusion and anger on Vosa's sharp face almost incited Dooku to laugh.

"You are unaware of the genuine threat towards the galaxy at large, my former pupil." Deactivating his blade, the Count stared down the perplexed Dark Jedi with sternness. "And I could use your talents once more to aid in ridding the Dark Lord of the Sith." Her eyes widened at the revelation, but Dooku continued nonchalantly, "If you and the Bando Gora serve my cause, I shall complete your training, and we will begin a new era for the galaxy, one where the corruption of the Republic, the Jedi and the Sith are cleansed away, making room for a new stable and secure society for all life in the galaxy."

"...What makes you think I won't slay you down when the opportunity presents itself?" Vosa inquired slowly, cautiously.

"You can try." Dooku responded casually, an aged hand reaching forward. "Become my student once more, Komari Vosa, and your training will be finished. After all, the Sith Lord desires your head, deeming you a present threat to his plans. Your petty criminal gang can only achieve so much to protect you."

That as all that was required. Vosa may be a skilled duelist and powerful with her emotions, but not even that will save her from a true Master of the Dark Side. Sidious had ordered her death in the previous timeline, but Dooku will make certain none of his prized students will ever be harmed by the machinations of that snake again.

* * *

"Now looka... We don't need to settle this under bloodshed, eh? All I'm jus' askin' for is a measly ten thousand credits, and she's all yours." The slimy Toydarian offered, attempting to defusing this present situation before he ends up all over the floors of his shop.

Watto wasn't entirely sure what was happening himself. One moment he was selling parts to a promising customer, the next this armoured man comes in, starts waving his blasters around the place, scaring off said customer and demanding the price for Shmi Skywalker. The armour Watto vaguely recognized belonged to the Mandalorian culture, which incited both panic and confusion in the aged Toydarian.

The Mandalorians, of so he thought, had changed from their oppressive bloodthirsty ways long ago. So what this all about?

For a moment, the person, obviously male behind the silver helmet, spoke again, rough and firm, "Five thousand, and I will spare your life before collecting the slave personally."

Watto gulped, the nose of the sleek blaster primed right on his bald forehead. The junkdealer had dealt with this type ruffian before, and will not back down so easily. He then played his triumph card, clearing his throat. "Now, ya wouldn't wanna do that, my friend. I have the deactivation device for the slave chip inhibiting that slave. Killin' me will do ya no favours... Eheh..."

Yet, to the junkdealer's dismay, the man wasn't fazed by his argument. The barrel of the weapon loomed closer, his visitor's voice dangerously low, "I have other ways of controlling or removing that chip, Toydarian. Now, three thousand. That's my final offer. Bargain for more and I'll take your life along with the slave."

Well, with a bargain like that...

"Alright! Alright!" Watto threw his hands up, giving up in this matter. Skywalker wasn't worth the hassle, nor his corpse. Though a part of him loathed to hand over the woman to this kind of scum. "She's all yours. I trust you have the credits right now, eh?" He rubbed his hands greedily before he could stop himself.

Slowly, the blaster lowered, yet the Mandalorian waved him off, "Just go get the device, and you'll be paid for your part."

Moments later, Watto watched his "generous" customer leave after hastily grabbing and handing him the device. He hoped that whatever deity was out there would look out for Skywalker, for the aged Toydarian had a feeling she was gonna need it.

* * *

It had been the usual day for Shmi Skywalker.

Breakfast. Working at the junkshop. Watto telling her to go home when she showed the slightest sign of exhaustion. Carefully walking past any ruffians or thieves along the way - not that Shmi would have anything of substance for them to steal. Clean up the house and the droid her little Ani had worked so hard on over two years ago now. Retire to bed for the night for the following typical morning. Rinse and repeat.

That was all she expected, really.

What she hadn't expected, however, was the man in silver armour waiting for her at her front door, announcing they were to leave Tatooine and to pack her essentials. Shmi, obviously knowing better than to question this serious-looking humanoid, obliged, eventually requesting for help from her waiting guest to lift up the unfinished 3PO.

As everything was packed, the man, as she could discern from his rugged voice, began the procedure of removing her inbedded slave chip.

"Why are you doing this...?" The aged woman couldn't help but inquire, wincing slightly at the pain. Followed by blood, the armoured humanoid held up the chip, before promptly crushing it with his hand.

"Your employer requires your services." The rough man replied briskly, motioning for her to stand from her seat, Shmi nodded, doing as expected before moving over to pick up her box.

"But me personally?"

"He was very specific." He responded, throwing the tall droid over his shoulder with a lack of care.

As she pondered these words, a surge a hope rose through her. "Does it have something to do with Ani?" She asked.

The man simply stared at her for a moment, before answering in that same strict tone, "Never heard of him. Now I suggest we move. Lord Tyranus wants this to be a smooth transaction."

As her hopes dampened, Shmi felt a different surge within her while nodding, walking towards the front door to the wilderness outside; she was free.

A free slave.

And yet... why ask for her employment without the slave chip? Was this 'Lord Tyranus' a man or woman who didn't believe the necessity for slavery under servitude, or was just confident enough Shmi wouldn't try to escape? Well, quite frankly, the aged Skywalker was too exhausted in her age to consider running anywhere. Her life didn't belong to greater heights or adventure, but her beloved son, on the other hand...

"May I ask where we're going?"

"My ship. We'll be leaving for Serenno." The helmeted man answered, walking by her to proceed as they were greeted by the sands of Tatooine. "Follow me."

Serenno...

Shmi would tap her chin in she could, instead of hastily following the mysterious stranger. The aged woman vaguely recalled such a planet...

But whoever this Tyranus was, and whatever this new world had to offer her, Shmi was more than certain her life will be a bit more brighter than it had been on Tatooine, ever since Anakin left.

A small part of her assured her of such.

* * *

"I'm delivering the slave to Serenno as my speak, Lord Tyranus. She'll be here shortly."

"You have done well, Jango." Dooku praised the holographic bounty hunter, "And the chip?"

"Removed as you instructed. Though I fail to see why you'd want a free slave serving you."

"All in due time, my friend." The Count waved dismissively. "A servant will expect you by the landing, he'll relieve Skywalker off your hands. After which, I have another assignment for you."

"Just as long as I get paid." Beofre Jango Fett abruptly swicthed off the communication, leaving Dooku to his thoughts.

The Sith Lord sighed, a faint smile of nostalgia rose on his aged lips. Jango had always preferred to end the conversation by his own terms. Straight to the point and tolerated no nonsense. It was a shame he fell at the hands of Windu at the height of the Clone Wars. Now that will be changed.

The Force hummed its approval at Dooku's tactics, and the Count rose from his seat in his office, turning to the large stain window overlooking the lovely forests of Serenno. Everything was proceeding as planned. With the mother of Anakin Skywalker under his wing, Dooku now had the upper hand in regards to the impudent brat. In case that Qui-Gon's teachings fail to mature the boy, his mother will be used as leverage should he become a presentable threat to him.

Or if Sidious intends to sick the so-called "Chosen One" on him.

And earlier today, Sifo-Dyas contacted the pleased Count, informing him that the warlords of Rattatak were disposed of, and Ky Narec and his pupil were prepared to come to Serenno. Which was more than excellent. Despite having a different Master now, Ventress was still Dooku's pupil in spirit, and the Sith felt some obligation to help with her training, to make up for what happened so long ago.

The image of her charred corpse on Christophsis incited his slight frown.

This time, things will be different. He vowed this. The Republic will be cleansed into a new greater state of democracy, free from the incompetent cowards and corrupt backstabbers who run it. The Jedi Order will be rebuilt, old ways cast aside to make way for the new. And Sidious will be destroyed once and for all.

That was the balance to the Force those fools failed to comprehend. And Dooku will be the messenger and hand of that balance.

But for now, time was key. Dooku's next task for the Mandalorian was to assist a certain Kaleesh in his people's struggles against the rival species-

His posture stiffened, a chilling voice speaking from behind him, echoing from the darkness of the large office.

"Well now, we meet at last, Count Dooku..."

* * *

 **AN: Well, now who could that unwelcome visitor possibly be? And how will Dooku deal with this arrival? Let's find out, next time.**

 **Also, in regards to a few chapters back about my thoughts on Anakin, some things will change about his development to Jedi Knight in contrast to the prequels. AKA, the things that shouldn't happened that would've made the whiny brat a more tolerable character.**

 **For starters, no murdering of women and children. I don't care what the boy thought that would justify such genocide, there's no excuse for willingly killing children. But obviously, with Shmi now off Tatooine, that's less likely to happen.**

 **Secondly, that... Love story... If you want to call it that, ain't happening. Sorry folks, but I've seen better love stories on Twilight. It doesn't help that Anakin was clearly an obsessive maniac who lusted after the same woman for ten years straight after only knowing her for a few days or so. You'd think that a decade of Jedi training would've restrained the boy';s urges a little.**

 **What else? Well we'll see, but if you have any suggestions, my ears - or eyes in this case - are open.**

 **Until then my friends!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, of course. If I did, I would've made Anakin a likable character... Or have Dooku or Obi-Wan be the star of the prequels, with less politics and vomit-inducing "romance." Either all. Enjoy!**

* * *

And for the first time since his arrival to the past, Dooku felt the cruel sensation of fear towards the approaching hooded figure.

It was as though the entire room darkened, the light from the stained glass behind the Count not enough to penetrate the cold blackness emanating from the uninvited Sith. Immediately Dooku's right hand brushed over the hilt of his lightsaber, hidden within the cape, for justified precaution. But even so, the Sith Lord advanced, clearly undeterred.

But instead of displaying fear, Dooku held on his mask of composure and civility, frowning at the hooded figure, "You are not welcome here, Sith."

At that blunt address, the figure paused, as though not expecting that kind of welcome. Dooku refrained from smirking at keeping Sidious offguard, albeit temporarily. No, he will not fall for this man's machinations once again.

"Not quite the welcoming I expected." The Sith Lord rasped, his cold voice echoing the chamber with an air of significance, "From one who shares a common goal."

Unlikely.

Dooku responded calmly, his cloaked hand twitching over the curved hilt, "If you have come to seek an alliance, know that I am not so foolish as to listen to your false sympathies." Not anymore. "If you want to continue living, then I'd recommend you leave immediately, Sith, before some acquaintances of mine arrive."

It would be beneficial to have Sifo-Dyas and Ky Narec by his side before engaging Sidious. Dooku couldn't just charge recklessly at his opponent. Komari was in the medical wing being treated, Ventress would stand no chance against the manipulative Dark Lord, and Jango was on Slave I, awaiting his next assignment.

Slowly stepping down, brown eyes locking on the hooded yellow orbs, conviction versus deceit. Sidious hardly seemed threatened by the evident warning, "You are mistaken, my friend, for we do in fact share something in common; our concerns and interests for the galaxy at large. The rotten Republic and its failing Jedi Order, leeching away at the innocents and storming the worlds with their pathetic ideals and corruption. I know you, _Count_ Dooku, just as you know me."

Any moment now...

"The dark side is strong in you." Sidious continued, voice cackling curiosity and glee, "It holds you as one of its own. Tell me... Was it always there... Or did you receive some help in using its power...?"

Dooku briefly tensed, brown eyes narrowing further.

And that confirmed the Sith's suspicions enough, Sidious always noticing subtle movements in others, "I can teach you much more." The Dark Lord then said slyly, advancing much further now towards the Serennian. "Imagine, how much power can be granted to you; aiding you in ridding the sickening Republic, and all who oppose you. Let us work together, Dooku, and we can build a brighter future for the galaxy."

There was sincerity, but Dooku knew it to be a fabrication. Nothing this man said could convince him now. Treachery was the way of the Sith, and Dooku was only reminded of that crucial lesson much too late.

If only Obi-Wan had joined him...

Qui-Gon!

Remembering one of the few he was doing this for, Dooku stood tall and proud, the darkness within him pouring out in waves, clashing against the blacker hues of his enemy in a sea of power. Those yellow orbs, the only visible feature beneath the hood save for the aged mouth and chin, narrowed at the display of power.

"I will not enslave myself to the likes of you." Dooku began, hidden hand de-clipping the hilt from his belt, ready to strike. "Nor will I submit myself to the false promises of the dark side. It is mine to command, not the other way around. Not only will I save the galaxy from the senate's corruption, but the Force from your existence. Be gone, Darth Sidious, while I am briefly considering this act of mercy."

Silence.

Those sickly eyes narrowed at the knowledge towards his own name, his title of power, before Sidious mused softly, "So, Plagueis wasn't as predictable as I thought." Plagueis? Dooku frowned heavily, but kept his stance firm. The Sith Lord then sighed, as though in regret, "So be it."

It took Dooku a split-second to react; red meeting red as the elder Sith immediately blocked at the vertical strike, as quick as lightning. Forced to step back. the already-struggling Count met the red-illuminated face of the grinning Chancellor Palpatine.

"I can't have another rival challenging my rule."

Followed by more blocked assaults, Dooku having only a margin of time to successfully deflect the impossibly-fast attacks and Force Pushing the Sith away. Hurled back, Sidious landed on the floor without fault, a second hilt slipping from his cloaked sleeve. Two lightsaber blades, glowing blood and promising death, waited eagerly in their master's hands.

Dooku, however, wasn't deterred, and a voice sounding suspiciously like Qui-Gon's own was telling him to trust in the Force, prompting a small smile. Typical, now that that man was alive once more, there will probably be more speeches towards the Count about trusting and believing in the Living Force.

But even so, the fact that Qui-Gon lives, and will train Skywalker to become a better Jedi than the sloppy mess Kenobi produced, incited a sensation Dooku had never truly felt before purely. An emotion so strong that he had only marginally sensed since becoming a Sith Lord, with the promises to save the galaxy, and when his first student was knighted decades ago. It pushed away the darkness, only briefly, and pledged itself to help Dooku survive this fight.

Hope.

With the Makashi Salute, Dooku charged into the battle, and his snarling opponent following.

Having never sparred with Sidious before in the other timeline, Dooku wasn't quite sure what to anticipate. But even so, he didn't lower your guard in the slightest, engaging in this twisted dance with the other Sith Lord. Sidious' moves were blurry, as fast as lightning, swinging and maneuvering masterfully. It was as if he expected every move Dooku would make, effortlessly deflecting and derailing while attempting to counterattack, barely giving the man room to breathe.

But even so, Dooku pushed on. This manipulative scum wouldn't kill him, and the aged Sith refused to die once more at the hands of Sidious' machinations. Red blades danced and parried, Makashi against what appears to be a mixture of the classic form along with Juyo, which would make sense in this man's case.

Dabbler in all, master of none.

Despite his foe's usage of Jar'Kai, and that Makashi wasn't well aimed to blocking multiple assaults at once, Dooku wasn't deterred in the slightest, having not only mastered but improved the faults over the dueling lightsaber form. Any advantage Sidious had hoped to take would be squashed in a millisecond, forced to step back to the classic strike and parry, even if his body twirled all over the place, his red blades spinning menacingly, slicing up the floor, rug and many landing supports as the duel took all over the place.

Sidious may be a master of darkness, but Tyranus was _the_ master of the blade.

A jab here, defense there, light twirls of the lightsaber combined with a few feints, yet Sidious continued blocking every move Makashi had at its arsenal, clearly knowing much more of Dooku's techniques than he let on. Of course. As feral and deadly as Maul's style had been.

Except this time, Sidious wasn't sloppy.

Beads of sweat were already falling down Dooku's resolved face, his aged body beginning to grow weary at the relentlessness of his opponent. Even seven years before the Clone Wars, he wasn't in his prime. And Sidious knew this, judging from the sickening grin spreading on his hooded face as he advanced, now beginning to take the lead of this dance.

It didn't help that the darkness was practically suffocating him. Dooku couldn't inhale properly, exhaling sharply as he focused with all his might on the duel at hand. Not even Master Yoda pushed him to such limits, nor that Skywalker brat. Small seeds of fear were now planting themselves in the Count's mind, and for once, he briefly wondered if he might possibly lose, even when given a second chance.

He'd fail everyone. The galaxy at large. His Padawan...

Then a familiar voice, as gentle and stern, whispered in his fatigued mind: _Focus on the here and now, father._

Tch. Even when not here, his old Padawan still had a sentimental effect on the aged Sith Lord.

But even so, Dooku felt his adrenaline rush, a sense of resolve flowing over his tired state, the Force aiding his exhausted limbs as he fought back against the hooded enemy, his lightsaber more vicious and eager than before. Sidious, obviously taken aback by the new assaults, was temporarily forced back, blocking the jabbing and twirling blade and seemingly considering his options.

Well, too little too late. Dooku gave him the opportunity to live moments ago, and he wasn't about to take back his word now, now that the manipulative man was in his grasp.

The viper snapped at the snake.

And, with mixtures of light and darkness empowering him, Dooku, at last, managed to disarm his stunned foe with one of his hands, forcing Sidious to leap backwards. Yellow eyes glared at the lightsaber pointing towards his chest, and Dooku allowed himself a smug smile. Some satisfaction had to be taken when managed to disarm one of a Sith Lord's blades.

"I gave you the chance to leave, now I shall give you another option." Dooku said, spinning his lightsaber once. "Painless, or suffering?"

Sidious snarled maliciously, evidently not intimidated, "As if you would even gain the chance."

Without looking over the Sith, the Count of Serenno's smile grew, sensing the other's presences now, the heat of their duel distracting him from other Force user signatures. "Either I or them. I'd suggest you select carefully."

Followed by further sounds of activated lightsaber blades, and Sidious glanced over his shoulder cautiously. Master Sifo-Dyas and Master Ky Narec, with blue and green illuminating their grim stony features, aimed their weapons towards the more dangerous Sith Lord, ready to fight against the threat which plagued the Republic, their order and the entire galaxy.

"Stay back Asajj." Ah yes, Ky's apprentice obviously followed them here, having sensed the darkness too. The Dathomirian nodded dumbly to her mentor's orders, regarding the hooded Sith with apprehension and fear.

"Surrender, Sith." Sifo-Dyas then commanded, his weapon pointing towards the back neck of Sidious. "Lay down your weapon, and we shall bring you to justice."

Though to Dooku, their ideas of "justice" might just be different.

"What took you so long, old friend?"

Despite his focused expression, Sifo-Dyas responded with dry humour, "As if I would let you face this monster alone."

Sidious, meanwhile, regarded all his opponents carefully, as though considering his options; whether to attack or flee. Or both. Dooku raised his blade cautiously, and the Jedi followed his movements. Three masters, one of dark and two of light, opposing the greatest threat of all. Surely even Sidious wouldn't be foolish enough to try and-

"Look out!" His old friend suddenly called, and Dooku barely had time to react at the spinning lightsaber, the one he wrenched from the Sith's grasp earlier, hurled his way through the Force.

Deflecting it came with a cost, as Dooku then experienced pain, forcing him to hiss sharply and step back, free hand clutching the burned wound and other deactivating his lightsaber out of shock, giving Sidious the opportunity he needed. The Sith Lord leapt over the wounded Count, and Dooku could react little in time as Sidious then threw himself out the stained window, falling to the wilderness below. As Ky Narec immediately rushed towards the now broken piece of art, Dooku felt a strong hand of comfort on the safe side of his shoulders.

"Are you alright?"

He nodded slowly. The pain wasn't quite as intense as the time he lost his hands to that brat. Facing the concerned Sifo-Dyas, he replied while swallowing, "It'll take more than a mere shoulder wound to stop me." Before noticing the Dathomirian standing a few feet away, regarding him with curiosity and wariness, and Dooku felt the urge to look away, as the memories of Ventress' charred corpse rose in his mind at the sight of the much younger Nightsister before him.

"Dooku?" Sifo-Dyas evidently picked up on his guilt, and Dooku quickly recomposed himself. Before the sounds of footsteps incited them to face the approaching Jedi, who had deactivated his blade and was now appraising Dooku, his arms folded.

A few seconds of silence passed, hard stares meeting one another. It had been a long time since Dooku had interacted with Narec, passing by and greeting him with either a nod or vocally in the temple years ago, long before he seemingly disappeared during an envoy mission. But the Count knew this Jedi Master enough to know when he was being scrutinized by the obviously wary man.

"Master Sifo-Dyas was right, the dark side is strong in you." Though the voice expressed observation, the stern eyes clearly reflected suspicion. Dooku didn't reply, refusing to yield to this man's silent intimidation tactics, yet wincing slightly at the burning pain on his right shoulder. "I was told you wish to save the galaxy from the plight that is the Sith."

Dooku nodded, at least, at the statement.

And Narec returned the gesture. "Even though you have fallen, there's a tendril of light I sense in you." Dooku frowned at the absurd notion, but the Jedi then fixed his gaze on the other Master. "You completely trust this man?"

"With my life." Sifo-Dyas replied without hesitation, and despite the pain, Dooku felt a urge of pride and... Flattery at the loyalty of his old friend. Despite what he'd done with Sifo-Dyas in the other timeline, the man here trusted the Sith he grew up with.

A pause, Narec clearly thoughtful for a brief moment before finally nodding, as though making a decision. "I suppose I must repay my gratitude when you sent Master Sifo-Dyas to aid me on Rattatak, Master- Count Dooku. But I shall like to know exactly who I'm working with before agreeing to aid you in your plans." That said, he gestured to the wound. "Escort him to the medical bay. If we hurry, my apprentice and I can catch up to the Sith before he leaves Serenno."

* * *

The fallen Huk barely had time to react. Its progress of getting back up on its feet was interrupted by the foot pushing down its throat, its bulged eyes glaring upwards before the attacker twisted its neck in a fatal manner.

Without bother checking if the deed is done - as it clearly was - the lead Kaleesh yelled to his waiting brethren, all standing proudly behind him, "This will be the day the Huk shall realize the pain and suffering they have caused us! It's time we wipe them from the face of Kalee! Onwards!"

Followed by roars of approval, the army advanced past their leader, into the fray of Huk waiting to meet them head-on, while some hid behind their blasters. Cowards, as usual. Qymaen sneered.

For too long have their world invaded by those contemptible Huk, and now was the time to liberate it, and then the Kaleesh would have their retribution by taking over their enemy's world, just to see how THEY like it. No more will they be oppressed by those who deem themselves better. No more will the Huk think to invade Kalee once again. Every single one of those cowards will die at the hands of the Kaleesh, as was appropriate.

And Qymaen Jai Sheelal will lead the fray to victory.

Hm...?

The Kaleesh couldn't help but bark a laugh at the approaching for, clutching his bleeding chest and pointing a small blaster towards the warlord. So, a Huk managed to escape death and thought itself capable of destroying him? Qymaen shall have to rectify that.

But the gods, it seems, have other plans.

Like hellfire from above, the now screaming Huk fell from the blaster onslaught flying onto him, in clear agony before death finally claimed its miserable soul. Eyes lingered on the smoking corpse, before Qymaen curiously looked up. Odd, he didn't recall support from the mountains.

Which he was correct, as the sight that greeted was one the warlord hadn't expected.

Coated in silver, hovering above using some sort of machinery, was a man wielding two tiny blasters, meeting Qymaen's gaze behind the clean helmet. And just looking at the armour, the warlord could tell this flying man before him was some sort of warrior, descending before the Kaleesh at a fair distance. A stare-off commenced.

"My thanks, stranger." Qymaen began calmly, observing the silver armour with interest, "You are clearly not with the Huk. Are you an enemy of theirs?"

"I'm an enemy of many." The stranger replied, obviously male, behind the helmet, "I have been tasked with recruiting your services, Qymaen Jal Sheelal."

At his intentions, the warlord sneered, "You think me some kind of mercenary? Out of my way, fool, before you join the trail of bodies I shall leave behind."

Yet the man didn't budge, which both infuriated and intrigued the Kaleesh. Was this man ignorant, or had a death wish? "I have come to offer my assistance in liberating your homeworld, in exchange for your loyalty to my employer. He is completely capable of making sure the Huk never invade Kalee again."

At this claim, Qymaen raised a brow, some small part of him urging to ignore this man and join his brethren in the bloodshed. Yet the opportunity wasn't something Qymaen could ignore, "Could this 'employer' also provide the means for us to conquer the Huk's world?"

"That depends on your answer."

Ah... So the gods had favoured him after all.

"Which will depend on your skills." That said, Qymaen raised his rifle triumphantly, his tone rising, "Join us in battle then, if you are truly a warrior! Show me you are worth someone allying with, and I will consider your employer's offer."

The silver man nodded, raising his own blasters before turning around to fight in the battlefield. And together, both Kaleesh and Mandalorian joined the battle, the screams of agony and the cries of blood spilled from the pitiful Huk corpses echoed across the plains. Death and decay rot against the invading race, and not a single one of these creatures were spared from the Kaleesh's wrath.

Music to Qymaen's ears.

* * *

 **AN: Near the end of the month? Yes, but I can explain. I was a lot more preoccupied working on other things which demanded my attention more. But not to worry, as I will have a lot more free time to post the next chapter earlier this April. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and look forward to the next one, my friends!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. Enjoy!**

* * *

As Dooku expected, Sidious had managed to evade his pursuers, having just received a report from Narec. In contrast to Narec's disappointment over their failure, the Serrinian was rather relieved; Sidious was far more powerful than the Jedi anticipate, and would've destroyed Narec and Ventress without a second thought. The former of the Jedi was necessary to complete Ventress' training, whereas Dooku could concentrate on more pressing matters.

The fact Dooku survived spoke volumes.

Having the would treated, the restless Count - Though incredibly exhausted by the previous battle - excused himself from the medbay when the opportunity had arise, returning to his office to continue where he left off. And as the worker droids repaired the damages done to this room, Dooku felt a sense of pride and accomplishment for facing his own against a Dark Lord of the Sith, even if it cost some expensive decor and a window.

He doubted even Yoda could have fought Sidious and lived.

Subconsciously rubbing the casted shoulder, Dooku contemplated these events. That Sidious and him were now officially enemies, and acknowledged each other as much, filled the Count with a sense of anticipation and apprehension. He knew how crafty and manipulative the Sith Lord; playing around with the lives of all living things like puppets, blending truth and lie to fit his twisted view and get whatever he desires. Much like the Jedi in that regard.

He'd have to be more cautious from here on, now that Sidious regarded the former Jedi as a rival. Dooku will have to be as clever and deceptive to outwit his opponent. And, fortunately, the Count held the advantage of knowledge on his side; he studied under the Sith for over a decade long ago, and now it was time to use that knowledge against his greatest obstacle to restoring the Republic.

His desk beeped, indicating a call. Dooku had expected it, answering without delay. The tall image of Jango Fett, who hadn't called for over an hour now, greeted the Count under that muffling helmet.

"My Lord."

Dooku nodded, "Jango, what news on Kalee?"

"I made contact with the Kaleesh warlord, on your behalf." The Mandalorian reported, glancing over to the side where presumably the general was watching, "He's interested in your alliance, after I've proved myself to his gods."

Excellent.

"You have done well." Dooku smiled proudly, "I wish to speak with him. After which, you are to return to Kamino. Your credits will be sent to your account immediately."

"It will be done." That said, the satisfied bounty hunter moved out of the hologram's sight.

And as Dooku awaited the Kaleesh patiently, the bounty hunter's call reminded him of something crucial; the mother of Skywalker still making herself home in one of the guest rooms. Dooku had yet to introduce himself to her, and he shall do so after this meeting. A small part of the aged Sith was intrigued in meeting this woman the Force had supposedly impregnated.

The warrior finally appeared, the blue image looking down on Dooku with interest and stoic, the mask hiding Grievous' features. "Count Dooku, I presume?" Though he didn't show it, the Serrinian was a little taken aback; having gotten use to his more robotic voice long ago. "I hear you wish to help us in wiping the Huk from the face of Kalee."

"That and much more, warlord." Dooku replied slyly. Everything was going as planned.

* * *

He had not foreseen this.

For once in his life, Sidious felt betrayed by his former master, who was most likely smiling that smug smile from the netherworld. To teach a disciple behind his back, and it being the Jedi Order's most highly skilled duelist by that extension, was a cunning move on the Muun's behalf. Plagueis obviously sensed something wasn't going to end well for him, and so mentored another student behind Sidious' back as a contingency plan.

Or in case Sidious failed as a Sith, but that was never going to happen.

Having successfully eluded his Jedi pursuers to his ship, the Sith Lord reached Coruscant under the guise of Palpatine and made a straight path to his office, cancelling all plans for this afternoon to contemplate on these events, and set in motion the plans to rid himself of this dangerous rival.

The Sith Lord steepled his fingers, elbows on the surface of his desk. To think, Dooku had always been a master of the Dark Side, and Sidious never sensed it until before Maul's demise. All those years of hearing the Count's frustrations with the ineffectiveness of the Republic, the arrogance of the Jedi, and slowly converting the man to the darkness, all felt as though they were being thrown into his face. But even so, Sidious remained undeterred, not the slightest bit afraid of this new opposition, nor the handful of Jedi the Count clearly tricked into allying with him.

Only one more obstacle before he can establish his empire.

Even in death, Plagueis plays the part of a fool still.

Even if he failed to persuade the Serrenian to join him, there will always other options. That child who was Qui-Gon Jinn's pupil, for example, displayed some promise. Dooku may be against him, but Sidious mastered the arts of the Dark Side of the Force long before him, and will not be outplayed by an old fool.

Like master like student, Dooku will fall.

But how to go about it?

It was like chess. For now, Sidious will sit back and let Dooku make his move, before retaliating in harsher force. The Sith Lord well aware of how the Count of Serenno would act and behave, his strengths and weaknesses, and what was truly important to him, and Sidious will enjoy taking delicious advantage over the old man's struggles for rebuilding the Republic anew.

For there will not _be_ a Republic after the Dark Lord of the Sith was through with it.

His secretary buzzed through holocall. "Yes?" Palpatine answered, annoyed by the interruption.

"You have a call from the Senator of Jabiim again, your Excellency."

His nostrils exhaled forcefully. "Tell him I shall respond later." Honestly, can't that man take the hint that the Republic held no interest in helping his world?

Now where was he? Ah yes, taking on another apprentice. It was a shame Dooku was already a Sith Lord, as his skills and familiarity were suitable for Sidious' future designs. But there were so many other opportunities, even if they were hardly as effective as the Serennian.

Perhaps those witches could provide with an efficient placeholder until a student worthy of the tile of Sith appears to him.

* * *

In her new room, Shmi fiddled her fingers nervously, brushing off any tiny bit of of dust from the new fancy clothing she adored. The woman had every right to be nervous; any moment now, she was to meet her new employer, and a noble at that. To say she was hesitant would be an understatement.

In all honesty, Shmi hadn't expected the man she was now in service to to be so... Rich. And a small part of her now wished to be working under Watto again, at least then it wasn't so underwhelming.

And there were so many questions: How did this "Count Dooku" know about her? Why did he desire her services, all the way on Serenno, this seemingly rich world? Shmi had never heard of the planet nor this Count she was to work under, nobility wasn't something people on Tatooine spoke of.

And yet, the aged woman couldn't shake off the feeling that this had something to do with her little Ani. Despite the armoured man's insistence that he had never heard of the boy before, Shmi knew it in her heart her young Jedi-in-training was involved, one way or the other. And whatever brought her closer to him, the better.

The woman straightened herself, hearing the door before her being knocked. It was time. But then the woman found herself hesitating; was she to open the door for the Count, or should she politely allow him entry? It didn't matter, regardless, as the visitor let herself in; a young pale teenager with short blonde hair, and Shmi found herself unable to identify her species. She can only guess.

"Count Dooku's ready to see you now." The young girl said politely, bowing shortly and looking quite uncertain, as though unaccustomed to being polite to anyone. Smiling softly, Shmi nodded in thanks, which seemed to boost the girl's confidence, smiling herself before gesturing, "Follow me."

As it was when she first entered the palace, the hallways and rooms were decorated elegantly; not a speck of dust in sight. Of all places Shmi expected to find herself in the future, a noble's home wasn't one of them. They walked down through the fashioned hallways slowly, the younger woman kindly letting her just take it all in, often pausing so Shmi could admire the scenery.

"I take it you're not use to this, huh?" The teenager asked rather quiet. And at Shmi's nervous nod, she released a small smile, "Me neither, me and my master just got here a few hours ago."

Master?

Shmi tilted her head curiously, "Are you a servant, young one?"

"Oh, no no." She shook her head quickly, "I meant my mentor. I'm a Jedi... Well, in training anyway."

At this, Shmi felt her hope rise, her smile brightening, finally notcing the weapon on the girl's belt, "I haven't spoken to a Jedi in years. What's your name?"

"Er, Asajj. Asajj Ventress, ma'am."

"A pleasure to meet you, Asajj." Shmi bowed formally, "My name is Shmi Skywalker." Though it raised the woman's suspicions further about Ani's involvement, and more questions.

"Please, follow me." The pale teenager continued, and Shmi followed obediently, already taking a liking to this young Jedi. It was clear she was nervous and uncertain about herself and this place, and Shmi shared that sentiment fully.

Finally, they arrived at a room guarded by large grand doors. And when Shmi caught up, Asajj opened the rather heavy-looking doors without difficulty, giving Shmi less time to feel more insignificant, instead marvelling at the Jedi's strength, and wondering further how her little Ani's doing. Without delay, the two women entered the room, anhd what greeted Shimi was a rather long fancy-dining table, occupied by a man dressed in smooth elegance, sitting at the other end of the absurdly long table.

"Ah, thank you Miss Ventress." His voice was as cultured as his clothing. Silver smooth hair and neat facial hair accompanied his aged features. If Shmi were to guess, he would be at least four or five decades older than herself. Not that she'd be rude enough to voice such a speculation. Smiling politely, the supposed Count dismissed the young Jedi, "That will be all, if you'd leave Miss Skywalker and I to discuss business."

"Of course." The young Jedi, who seemed eager to depart, whispered a "Good luck" before rushing out the room, the door seeming to close itself behind her. And Shmi suddenly found that initial nervousness returning in force.

"Count Dooku?" At the man's short nod, Shmi quickly recomposed herself, bowing gracefully, "I am very honoured to meet and serve under a man such as yourself-"

"Please." She flinched at the interruption, wondering briefly if she already did something wrong, "There is no need to be so nervous, my dear." Slowly looking up, Shmi saw the Count raise a gold cup, motioning to the other end of the table, a large empty seat waiting for someone, "Take a seat, Miss Skywalker."

Hesitantly, the woman obliged, unused to sitting on something so expensive and large. And for a while, no one spoke, and as she stared at her resting hands, Shmi felt the noble's eyes on her, as if studying her now employee thoroughly. The aged woman had experienced such scrutiny before, when she was under Gardulla's services.

"Don't hesitate, the food won't eat itself." Nodding, Shmi could only stare at the fine-cooked and clearly expensive delicacies, before slowly dining on the food, and the Count did so in turn. For a while, nether spoke, the only sounds being used utensils and the often small munches of the delicious food. And the aged Skywalker had never tasted anything so delicate and fine before, allowing herself moment by moment to try all the offered food towards her, oblivious to the Count's amused observation.

And for that brief moment, Shmi almost felt like a Queen.

"I imagine the edible substances of Tatooine had hardly satisfied your body to this degree." The Count commented lightly, and Shmi looked up in surprise, nodding rather quickly before flushing in embarrassment. Yet the noble only looked more amused, "Rest assured you will be treated and fed better than anything that dust ball could afford."

"Why are you doing this?" Shmi couldn't help but ask, yearning to know. At the noble's raised brow, she clarified, "Why seek my services? I'm no one significant to a noble such as yourself, Count Dooku..."

The man slowly raised a smile in response, as is pleased by the question, "You underestimate yourself, Miss Skywalker, considering your relationship to my son." Son? "You are familiar with Qui-Gon Jinn, are you not?"

At the name, Shmi perked up, her food forgotten. How could she forget the man who freed her little boy from slavery and had given him a better life? "You... Know Master Jinn?"

"More than you believe." The Count replied smoothly, brown eyes firm on the woman, and Shmi couldn't help but shiver. There was something in those powerful eyes that she couldn't place a finger on. "I am the man who trained Qui-Gon, who now teaches your son."

Shmi could only blink. Of course, now it made sense!

"You're... A Jedi too?"

At that, the man frowned slightly, "I was, but I removed myself from the Order long ago."

Nodding slowly, Shmi couldn't resist asking, "How is he? My little Ani?"

"I have never met the child." Her employer confessed, shrugging elegantly. And as Shmi began to feel disappointed, the Count added matter-of-factly, "But, as he is now the student of one who is practically my own child, he will become a prominent figure of the Jedi Order."

The pride in his voice was unmistakable and Shmi couldn't refrain from smiling lightly, pleased herself by the answer. "That's good. I've always been proud of Anakin, and I know he'll do the galaxy good as a Jedi more than a slave."

Saying nothing, the Count instead regarded the satisfied woman for a few moments, before standing up abruptly. Startled, Shmi observed as the man approached her rather swiftly, reaching the other end of the table and offering a hand, "It is out of respect for Qui-Gon, my legacy, which incited me to buy your services. But you will not be treated as a slave here, Miss Skywalker. Those days are over. Come, I shall provide you a tour around the palace to familiarize yourself, if you are up to it."

Hesitantly, the woman took his hand, being pulled up gently before finding herself looking away at the strong brown eyes, finding herself rather flustered from being in such close proximity to a man of such power. An ex-Jedi who's a noble, and has close relations to Qui-Gon, and by extension her son. And without releasing her unworthy hand, Count Dooku guided Shmi from the room like a gentleman, and Shmi asked without thinking much, "Could you tell me at least anything that you do know about my son?"

To her relief, the Count obliged.

* * *

The Force was shifting, irreversibly.

From his seat on the council, Yoda felt the subtle changes of the Force, eyes closed in deep concentration, following across the waves and refusing to be swept away. The Force guided him, taking him, showing the eight-hundred-year old Jedi Master the ever-so differences being made not just to the Force, but the galaxy at large. Whatever was happening will affect everything.

And it was clear, they all revolved around his own legacy.

Dooku, Master Jinn, Knight Kenobi and young Skywalker.

Opening his thoughtful eyes again, he acknowledged his Korun friend, Master Windu, glancing at him with a quizzical expression, eager to hear what the older master had seen. "Hmm, troubling, this is." Yoda finally spoke, gazing at the floor contemplatively, "Growing more power, is the Dark Side. Yet repulses this, the Light does not."

"I've felt it." Mace replied with an unnerving tone, he and Yoda the only current occupants within the council chambers, "We have been feeling it for quite some time, ever since the Battle of Naboo over three years ago."

Indeed, almost all the Jedi within the sacred Temple felt the change following a Sith's demise, the Force shifting into something new, something alien to them. The Zabrak body had been taken and examined closely in the temple, but so far there have been no traces or evidence suggesting where they could locate the second Sith.

Though they had an inkling to the third one.

"Could it be that the Dark Side is manipulating us?" Yoda looked over to the Korun curiously. Mace leaned against his seat, steepling his fingers in thought, "Does it want us to think it's gaining more power, distracting us from our enemy?"

That was a good thought, Yoda concurred. "Clouded is the darkness." He sighed, reaching out to the Force once again, "Hiding something from us, it is, including the Light. Both seem to be conversing, it seems."

"Master Yoda, how is such a thing even plausible?" The skeptical Jedi Master inquired, his brow furrowing, "Why would the Light even attempt communication with its disease of a counterpart? And what could be gained from it?"

To that, the aged master had no answer, shaking his head softly. The concept of the Light and Dark speaking to one another wasn't something the Jedi were use to, much less approve of. But even so, Yoda trusted the Force, and prayed that something good did come out of this plan the Light had. All he knew was it involved his old apprentice and the linage left by him.

"To those answers, find them we will." He decided to respond with that statement, eyes meeting Mace's hardened own, "Trust the Force, we must, and we shall. Time, it will take, for us to grasp the answers, but patient, we must be."

The Korun Jedi nodded, before moving on to another topic, "And what of Master Sifo-Dyas? He has disappeared for years now. Evidence suggest he is working with Count Dooku, but nothing we have is substantial yet." Followed by a long sigh, and Yoda knew why; the ex-Jedi had successfully time and time again evaded the Jedi spies sent to keep an eye on him. "We received reports that a ship recently arrived at Dooku's palace that had left to and returned from Rattatak."

"Hmm." Yoda glanced at his fellow Jedi, "Wish to investigate this destination, do you?"

"If it will help us find more clues to the answers we seek."

"...Agreed." The smaller master decided, tapping his walking stick on the marble floor for emphasis, "Dispatch Master Jinn and Padawan Skywalker for this assignment, we shall."

A short pause, before Mace muttered loud enough for Yoda to crack a small smile, "At least we'll have some peace around here for a while..."

Honestly, Yoda had little to no problem with the two unorthodox Jedi. True, they would bend the rules and accomplish their tasks in un-Jedi-like ways, often clashing against the council constantly with their opinions over the Order, the Force and so on. But to Yoda, they were a fresh change of pace; a welcome addition to provide some free air from the stuffy atmosphere the temple had over the last eight hundred years. Qui-Gon Jinn and Anakin Skywalker.

Or as many Jedi affectionately refer to the latter: Qui-Gon two-point-oh.

A shame none on the council - save for Master Fisto - shares this sentiment. It reminded the aged master of his old apprentice, and how much he truly missed the man. If Dooku was here, then they'd be in proper trouble; none on the council would ever gain any sleep again. But alas, the darkness cloaks over the Count of Serenno like a blanket, leading the Order, rightly so, to assume him another Sith Lord, who has been secretly trained by their hidden foe, and one they can't touch due to these circumstances. The last thing the Republic needed was to get in trouble with the elitist nobles of Serenno.

Regardless, Yoda wasn't convinced in the least his old student was taught in any way by a Sith Lord. No, there was something else going on with Dooku, something that compelled the Light to communicate with its dark counterpart. And whatever it was, was going to change the galaxy forever.

* * *

 **AN: Dooku and Sidious are now officially rivals, Shmi is now under Dooku's watchful eye, and the Force is changing as time progresses. What can possibly happen out of this? We'll just have to wait and see, won't we? Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and look forward to the next one! Until then my friends!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. Enjoy!**

* * *

"Keep on your guard, my young Padawan." Qui-Gon instructed as the two Jedi explored the damaged village, scanning for any life forms. "Let the Force guide you. If there are any survivors, we will know."

Anakin nodded, yet was unusually quiet. Qui-Gon didn't blame the young boy; this was his first arrival to a sight of a massacre. Charred bodies left and right, either by blaster bolts or holes and slashes across their chest, and the aged Jedi Master had a very good inkling as to where they originated from.

This would only further the Council's suspicions more and more.

Having been tasked with investigating Rattatak, Qui-Gon and Anakin's mission was to seek out Master Sifo-Dyas and return him to the Temple, as the Council had many questions for the Jedi Master. And Qui-Gon had a very good idea to what many of those questions were. Even he desired some answers; the Force has been... Quiet, lately, emitting a soft melody and drifting away from any inquiries the Jedi sought through meditation.

It intrigued the Jedi... And unnerved them.

Whatever the Force was hiding from them, Sifo-Dyas was involved. Qui-Gon was certain of it.

"Master..." Anakin's cracked voice pulled the Jedi from his reverie, the twelve-year-old looking at the . "Who could've done all this...?"

"A good question, Anakin." Qui-Gon replied gently, noticing the young boy's frightened stiff posture. "Calm yourself, center yourself through the Force. You may look away if you wish." His pupil immediately obliged, shutting those eyes closed tightly to no longer look at the sight around them.

Sensing no presence nearby to ambush them, the aged Master knelt down next to a Weequay corpse, concentrating. According to their records, Rattatak was ruled by multiple warlords who held an oppressive tyranny over the system, a Weequay army mainly at their command alongside the best warriors and beasts they can find. So why would Sifo-Dyas come here? What motivation would a Jedi Master have to travel to such a barbaric world?

Had he come to liberate them?

...What was this?

Something was sticking out from the corpse's pocket, looking to be a datapad. "Excuse me." Qui-Gon said politely, pulling out the item and inspecting it, turning on the message transferred into the datapad. And upon doing so, his eyes widened in surprise and awe.

So the Force has been fortunate.

"Master?"

He glanced at his hesitant pupil, "Yes Anakin?"

"Can we look elsewhere?"

Not wishing for his Padawan to stomach the sight either - though all Jedi must witness these kind of things first-hand - the aged Master nodded, "Of course. We must return to Coruscant anyway. Master Sifo-Dyas is clearly not here, but we do have something that could aid our investigations."

Anakin nodded, relieved, before glancing around him and exclaiming quickly, "Master?"

The Force warned him. A green blade ignited and deflected the blaster bolt as Qui-Gon whirled to face the near-assassin, body shielding his Padawan from view.

A Weequay, with a rifle, snarled at the sight of the lightsaber, "Jedi..." It didn't take long fro Qui-Gon to noticed the scorched wound on the Weequay's shoulder, "And I thought we were rid of you..."

Eyes narrowing slightly, Qui-Gon inquired with his blade held up, "You've been acquainted with a fellow Jedi, then?"

With hollow laughter, his enemy gestured with widened arms, "We all are." Emphasized by the numerous Weequay emerging form the shadows of the buildings, the corners, and even from rubble. Immediately, both Master and Apprentice stood back to back, green and blue lightsabers raised defensively. "You will pay for killing our masters." The same Weequay sneered contemptibly, raising his weapon with the others.

All aimed at the two Jedi.

"Do not despair." Qui-Gon said quietly, feeling Anakin's fear through their bond, "Anakin, the Force will guide you." From behind him, the young boy nodded, expression from nervousness to that of resolve quickly, the Force strong in him. Stronger than any Jedi Qui-Gon has ever met.

And he had every right to feel pride for his student.

With the Force commanding their movements, blades of blue and green met the oncoming red bolts.

* * *

On Dathomir, another battle was taking place, albeit one-sided.

Left and right, Zabrak warriors fell to the might of this invader, this man who'd dare enter their village without the Nightsister's blessings. Otherwise, they would've been informed. Yet try as they might, warrior after warrior fell in agonizing pain from the blue arcs of lightning sparking dangerously from the hooded being's fingertips. The fallen Zabraks weren't dead, they would only feel the consequences for facing a man of great power.

The remaining ones standing were now hesitating, considering their options. The cloaked invade only moved forward, slowly, calculatingly, as though enjoying the fear present on their faces. Whoever this man was, he was no stranger to suffering.

He was its master.

Still, out-powered or not, they were still Zabrak warriors, and they would fight to the death! Their shared conviction prompted the yelling men to charge, raising their handcrafted clubs and swords, and, once again, fall back onto the dirt ground by the power of this invader, who simply wlaked past them without a care in the world. In just a matter of under a minute, the entire village's population were downed by the black-hooded being.

Save for one.

The yellow and black Zabrak hesitated, young and uncertain of his own capabilities, even as the cloaked man approached him. Wincing, he slowly glanced at his fallen brother, the only family had had left, broken and beaten on the ground in a matter of seconds.

No... He will avenge his brother's humiliation!

With a battle cry, the remaining standing Zabrak charged forward, swinging down his weapon towards the invader's chest and-

W...What...?!

Every part of his body froze, the weapon barely inching from the opponent's cloaked chest. By just lifting a finger, this invader had stilled the Zabrak's entire body without delay. And, from beneath the hood, he could see the cruel smile and yellow sinister eyes. The invade raised his hand, lightning cackling from his fingertips, and the young Zabrak braced himself for the fearful end-

"Feral!"

Then, some mystic power pushed the young Zabrak back, the air knocked form his lungs, and he barely looke dup in time to see his older brother recklessly charging in to save him, only to be suspended in midair and thrown in a heap downwards. The hooded being towered over the lying Zabrak, who managed, with some sturggle, to at leats kneel submissively; a trait taught whenever Nightsisters found them worthy as a mate.

"Kill me..." He heard his brother say towards the hooded stranger, "But spare my brother..."

He wouldn't! "Savage, no!" Feral cried out, attempting to stand before the invade wave dhis hand and force dhim to roughly sit back down, observing Savage thoroughly.

"You would die for this weakling?" The figure croaked in a raspy voice.

He had to stop him! "You can't brother!"

But both stranger and sibling were ignoring him, and Feral could only watch helplessly at the horrifying realization he will never see his brother again.

"Yes..." Savage replied, head bowing, awaiting the killing blow like a true Nightbrother.

"Hmm..." The figure said contemplatively, "A trait I must rid of you overtime." What...? "Rise, Nightbrother." Slowly, Savage obliged, regarding the invader warily.

"You're not going to kill me...?" He dared ask.

The hooded figure responded while turning, motioning for the Zabrak to follow, "Should you fail in my plans for you. I am in need of a servant, and the Force appears to be strong in you, Nightbrother. Come."

Savage lingered for just a moment, meeting Feral's pleading eyes with hesitation... And sorrow. He wouldn't... Would he?

Yet the invade wasn't tolerating the sentimentality. "Hm, I suppose this can be considered your first test to becoming my servant." With powers similar to the Nightsisters, Savage's weapon flew into the stranger's open palm, offered towards the uncertain Zabrak. "Kill him."

"W-What...?" Savage asked in disbelief.

The invaded replied in displeasure, "Kill your brother, Zabrak, or else the whole village will feel the consequences."

He wouldn't... Savage truly wouldn't... Would he...?

Yet that look in his older brother's eyes, reflected something Feral didn't entirely like. "Brother, wait!" Savage hardly listened, almost as if in a trance, slowly advanced on the backing away younger sibling, who felt himself against a wall now, unable to escape the upcoming killing blow. "You wouldn't kill your only family, would you?"

Savage, upon hearing such, hesitated, and a brief flicker of hope rose in Feral's chest. But that squashed down at the stranger's goading words, "He is a shame to your family and the Nightbrother's warrior ways. Destroy him now, and embrace your true destiny! The Nightsisters, after all, won't be too pleased learning this village and all its people will burn."

No...

"I'm sorry, brother." Savage, with hardened regret, raised his club over the scared, eye-widening sibling. "May the spirits watch over you."

NO!

One swing over the head was enough, and Feral never moved again.

* * *

"I see..." Dooku muttered contemplatively, mulling over these new rather troublesome events. "You did well in informing me about this, Mother Talzin. Be assured I will do everything in my power to aid you avenging your people."

"That would be much appreciated, Count." The hologram of the aged woman replied, her voice echoing rather in distortion even though this method of communication. "The Nightbrothers are far too injured to provide my clan with future offsprings. This must be rectified immediately. I trust as we heal the warriors, you shall seek out this dark being who dared step foot on Dathomir without our consent?"

"Unquestionably." Though Dooku already had a suspicion as to the identity of this elusive dark being. "I shall inform you upon learning anything."

In another timeline, Talzin and her Nightsister clan had become enemies of Dooku's after numerous assassination attempts. In addition, for granting the cast-out Ventress a place to live and rejoin their clan. Having desired no loose ends, Dooku had ordered the cyborg Grievous into launching a full-scale attack on Dathomir in an attempt to destroy his former apprentice and the Nightsisters.

A mistake the Serrenian will not repeat again.

"Incidentally." The Count began smoothly, "Is there a name to this supposed abducted Zabrak warrior?"

"It matters not." Talzin waved dismissively, "He is expendable, and dead for all we care, after forcibly murdering his brother, according to the Nightbrothers who were conscious enough to observe the events. They called him Savage Opress."

Dooku made no visible reaction, but inwardly, he winced. Trust Sidious to take him by surprise on all accounts. The Count knew he should've recruited the brute's services long ago. "Thank you for the information. We will speak again soon."

"I certainly hope so, Count." And just like that, the hologram of the witch disappeared, and Dooku allowed himself an exhale of relief.

It was highly likely the purpose for Savage's kidnapping was Sidious's desire for a replacement apprentice until he finds the perfect candidate, as he had done with the Count in that other timeline. A part of him pitied the Zabrak; as if he hadn't been abused by the galaxy before, now he will suffer the cruel training of a Dark Lord of the Sith in full force. Dooku was lenient - at least in comparison to Sidious - with his teaching to Savage.

Perhaps, if given enough time, he could put the Zabrak out of his misery before Sidious is through with him.

But still, this presents another obstacle they must face. No doubt his rival will use Savage as dark disciple, to hunt down the Sith's enemies to abduct or dispose of them. Dooku will have to be more cautious than he possibly was currently; without the Nightsister's magicks, Savage wouldn't be strong enough to defeat the Count, even with Sidious's teachings. But arrogance has always been a fatal flaw of the Sith, one Dooku must overcome at all times.

 _Despise one of your major character traits being arrogance._ A mischievous voice similar to Qui-Gon said in his mind.

"Master... Count Dooku." From the doorway, Master Ky Narec entered the large office, that stern expression and judging eyes as constant as ever. Pausing by the desk, the old Jedi folded his arms, "The representatives from the Techno Union and Commence Guild have arrived, and are being escorted to the dining hall as we speak."

Some good news, at least.

Dooku nodded, standing up elegantly, "Thanks you, Master Narec." But the Jedi made no further movement, only his eyes observing the Count walk around the desk. "How goes your pupil's training?"

"The facilities you provided here have been effective in educating my student." Ky admitted, walking beside the Count but still eyeing him warily, "Her studies of the Force were limited on Rattatak. The books of knowledge you have over the Jedi ways have been beneficial in teaching Asajj, rather than the bloodthirsty conflict against us back there. For that, you have my gratitude."

But not his trust. Dooku couldn't blame him; anyone within a mile radius could sense the darkness pouring off the former Jedi, He could cloak that darkness, but he, despise his reservations against the Order, needed the Jedi's alliance against Sidious. Not the entire Order's, mind you, as they were no better than the Sith's movements. Over time, Ky Narec and his unnerved pupil will trust the Count as much as Sifo-Dyas currently did.

"I must regret to inform you, despite the education of young Ventress's studies, you both have little time to continue on for a short while."

Ky raised a white brow, "You have a first assignment for us."

It wasn't a question. Dooku nodded, "A world named Jabiim will be overrun by Trandoshan mercenaries, eager to take the lands for their own means. You are to engage them and liberate the system from their onslaught."

"Jabiim." The aged Jedi Master repeated, furrowing his brow, "As I recall, it is an Outer Rim world with its own seat on the Senate. Wouldn't the Republic send aid?"

"Ah, the Republic has ignored its cries for help numerous times." The Count said, sighing regrettably, "Though it pays its taxes, Jabiim futilely attempts again and again to gain the Republic's ears, while its lands are stripped bare, and its people slaughtered by greedy mercenaries. You are to repel this attack, and convince the leaders of Jabiim to join our ever-expanding alliance."

"Your independence movement." Ky said thoughtfully, "Another system you wish to take advantage of."

Dooku waved off the remark, "You and your pupil have until the evening to prepare. I suggest you take this matter seriously, Master Narec; for the Republic will reveal its corruption once they learn the real treasures that system has to offer."

Then, as Ky frowned and excused himself from the Count to inform Ventress of the new assignment, the Count made his way to where the representatives were waiting. He opened the doors and greeted the Gossam and Skakoan openly, "Gentlemen!" He clasped his hands friendly, "We have much to discuss."

* * *

"I must once again thank you, Master Kenobi, for bringing this message to me from the Jedi Council." The esteemed Chancellor of the Republic said, setting the datapad on his polished desk and gesturing to an empty chair, "Would you like to take a seat?"

Obi-Wan bowed gracefully, truthfully eager to get out of the office and entire Senate building as soon as possible. Outwardly, he expressed a calm and collected face, "I must respectfully decline, Chancellor; you must be quite busy for me to disturb any meetings."

"Come now, Master Kenobi, I always have time for the Jedi who helped saved my home planet years ago." He waved dismissively, "I insist. I would like to at leats interact more with one of Naboo's famous Jedi heroes."

"I only did what I could, your Excellency." Yet the young Jedi Knight, now in hid mid-twenties, found himself sitting down anyway, "Your people were in danger, and I, as a Jedi, acted accordingly."

"Of course, of course." Palpatine nodded, albeit knowingly, eyes reflecting graciousness and... An expression even the young Jedi couldn't decipher. The Chancellor was rather subtle for his own good. "So, tell me, have you found yourself a suitable Padawan as of yet?"

Obi-Wan wasn't too surprised by the question; it wasn't a great secret that the young Jedi Knight has found himself reluctant to take on a student of his own, much like Qui-Gon had after Xanatos. "I'm afraid not, Chancellor." He responded calmly, folding his arms.

Palpatine nodded, his features changing ever so slightly, adopting a sympathetic and understanding expression. "Master Kenobi, I may be a politician, but I am still human." It was no great secret that Obi-Wan had a wary perspective regarding politicians in general. "And I know when someone is troubled. If there is anything I can do..."

Shaking his head, the young Knight replied casually, "I am fine, thank you your Grace." A lie, but he didn't feel compelled to share his concerns with Palpatine of all people. The man was slippery as they come, Obi-Wan had learnt over the years.

So why did a small part of him wanted to trust the man...?

"Of course." The Chancellor conceded, steeping his fingers, "Then tell me, have you heard from your Master recently?" But before he could answer, a beeping noise was heard from the Chancellor's desk. "Yes?" Palpatine inquired to his holographic secretary.

"Representative Binks is here on behalf of Senator Amidala for the recent bill." Something in Palpatine's expression flashed for a brief moment, and Obi-Wan could tell what it was; a grimace. Even the friendly-going and deceitful leader of the Republic held some distaste towards the Gungan who somehow got a position in politics.

Not that Obi-Wan _disliked_ Jar Jar, but even a Jedi has his limits.

And when Palpatine allowed the Gungan entry, Obi-Wan was suddenly hit by a wave of disturbance, the Force echoing danger. And from behind the Chancellor's desk, out of the large window viewing the city of Coruscant, Obi-Wan spotted a flash of silver. "Chancellor!" The young Jedi Knight yelled in warning to Palpatine's oblivious, Force Pulling the stunned man over the desk towards the Jedi, both ducking at the floor just as Representative Binks entered the office.

An onslaught of red bolts blasted through the windows into the red office, flying over the desk and two lying men. From the sounds of several bolts there was also an obnoxious cry of pain. An d finally, as the blasters ceased firing, the Force alerted Obi-Wan that the danger was temporarily gone. Yet just in case, the Jedi immediately stood up and ignited his blue blade, in case the attacker attempted another try to assassinate the helpless leader.

"Are you alright Chancellor?" Obi-Wan inquired after cautiously waiting for the attacker to reveal himself once again, and helping the poor man stand up.

"I am well, Master Jedi." Just as he said this, the security guard barged in, blasters and staff raised to protect their leader to the bitter end. But upon noticing the damage of the room and sight of no intruder, the guards still held their weapons cautiously and began scanning around, some tending to the Chancellor. Palpatine said after waving off an insistent guard in blue armor, "I must say, thank goodness you were here, Master Kenobi. Who knows what could've happened! You have my thanks and that of the Republic's."

But now, Obi-Wan supposed with a pang of regret, the gratitude of the singing corpse of the Gungan on the floor. Not even Jar Jar deserved such a gruesome death.

* * *

 **AN: Oh yes he did, Master Kenobi! That's just in case anyone asks me to do some stupid reveal that Jar Jar Binks was the Sith Lord this entire time. Seriously, I can't understand how anyone thinks that theory to be genuine; it's laughable in its concept. And saying Jar Jar was Plagueis this entire time, too, would be an insult to Plagueis; my all-time favourite Sith Lord. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and look forward to the next one!**

 **Until then my friends!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. Otherwise, I would've included Darth Plagueis' murder from the novel into The Phantom Menace. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _"Breaking news on Coruscant: Assassination Attempt on the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic!_

 _Earlier this afternoon, a unnamed bounty hunter attempted a murder on the esteemed Chancellor of our Galactic Republic. A missile was launched form the assailant directly outside the office of the Chancellors, confirmed to have been using a jetpack at the time, engulfing the room in flames. Thankfully, the Chancellor was in session with Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, who with his unnatural reflexes saved the Chancellor in time. And Senate security arrived to vacate the Chancellor and escort him to safety. Unfortunately, the missile claimed the life of controversial Gungan, Representative Binks._

 _Security surround the Senate and Coruscant has increased by a significant percentage ever since the assassination attempt. An interview with neither Supreme Chancellor nor Jedi Knight Kenobi was possible. But Jedi Master Mace Windu, who arrived on the scene of the incident, had this to comment:_

 _"These are trying times within the Republic. This attempted assassination proved that not everyone is satisfied with the progressive results the Senate is taking to ensure peace and prosperity to the galaxy at large. Rest assured, we shall find the Chancellor's attempted assailant and bring him to justice."_

 _And we hold you to that, Master Jedi._

 _Coming next: The recent uprisings in the Mid Rim. A passing occurrence, or perhaps a coincidence to this recent attack against our Republic?"_

* * *

"We cannot assume this is a coincidence towards the signs of rebellion within the Mid Rim without circumstantial proof," Mace Windu said sternly towards his fellow councilors, "The galaxy has been at unrest ever since the Battle of Naboo."

Immediately after checking the state of the Chancellor and Knight Kenobi, Mace and Yoda issued an emergency council meeting to debate this sudden assassination attempt. Palpatine had returned to his apartment at _500 Republica,_ while Kenobi had just exited the chambers after giving out his report on the attack.

Jedi Master Plo Koon spoke next, contemplatively, "This attempt on the Chancellor informs us of many things. That someone would go so far without subtlety speaks volumes." The council nodded in agreement. Typically, more time to their liking, assassins would be more careful to attempt killing the supreme leader of the Republic. "Whoever wanted the Chancellor dead by this method, it almost speaks of an act of war."

Silence. Followed by a particular small Jedi humming thoughtfully, "Hmm... Troubling, this is." Master Yoda gazed around the stone and serious faces, his tone somber, "Find this attacker, we must. Question him, a priority, it is."

"I agree." Jedi Master Adi Gallia replied, leaning back against her seat coolly, "Whoever hired the Chancellor's assailant desired his death loudly and publicly. A message, perhaps, to the Republic that not even its leader is safe? Capturing this assassin might provide us with answers."

"Do we have any leads?" The Jedi Master, Kit Fisto, inquired next.

It was Saesee Tiin who answered the Nautolan, "Knight Kenobi provided a rather vague description; the attack fled just after launching the missile, but he was coated in silver armour. So we have a start there."

"But who should we assign to this mission?" Shaak Ti, the Togruta Jedi Master, asked, glancing around, "Many have departed to deal with the uprisings occurring in the Mid Rim."

Mace thought for a moment. Who indeed? The temple was scarce enough as is. This recent attacks against the Republic had been responded with many Jedi travelling outside Coruscant to quell the uprisings.

"Hmhmhmhmhmhm..." Many heads turned towards the chuckling of Master Yoda, who smiled vaguely, "An obvious answer, that should be, hmm? Two Jedi here, capable of investigating this crisis, we have."

"And who might they be, Master Yoda?" Plo Koon asked, yet the Korun already suspected the answer.

"Master Qui-Gon Jinn and his pupil, we shall send."

Of course.

But before Mace could express the flaws in that idea alone, it was Saesee Tiin who responded in agreement, "Yes, the Maverick and his unorthodox Padawan could fit into the Coruscant underworld without attracting too much attention, should the young boy be ready by now for such a dangerous mission."

"But it is not without risk," Shaak Ti pointed out calmly, "They still attract unwanted attention by their unusual behaviour. They act the least Jedi of the whole Order."

Kit Fisto grinned, "All the more reason to send them." He replied rather cheerfully, "The less Jedi-like, the better no? It'll make things more easier for them to seek out our assailant and deliver him to justice."

"Master Fisto brings a valid point," Plo Koon responded, steeping his fingers together, "Is the council in agreement."

At over half the room's occupants nods, Mace refrained from sighing, "Very well. We shall assign this mission to Master Jinn and Padawan Skywalker." Despite his own unnerved thoughts on the matter. Not that he didn't trust Qui-Gon, but the Jedi can use unorthodox tactics that could potentially make the Jedi reputation in the underworld worse than it already was.

"And what of the Chancellor's recent request to speak with Knight Kenobi?" Adi Gallia inquired, "Are we to approve that?"

"I do not see why not," Master Ki-Adi-Mundu said, "He most likely simply wishes to express gratitude to the Jedi who saved his life."

And yet, why in the name of the Force did Mace feel a shiver down his spine upon hearing that...?

* * *

It had been too long since she dreamed...

Her life so far had been nothing but hardships, and eventually pain and agony, so to sleep in content was an almost alien sensation to her; a thing she experienced so long ago. Long before the tortures. Long before the mission she snuck herself to participate in a vain attempt to please her insufferably stern master and the accursed Council. Long before Galidraan.

Galidraan...

...Dooku!

And just like that, the content dreams vanished, eyes popping open in shock and anger towards the man who was solely responsible for her endless pain. And now the cause for her imprisonment here, on Serenno no doubt. Oh yes, Komari knew all about her former teacher's departure from the Jedi, and good riddance, she had first thought.

But now, perhaps he should've stayed, and saved himself from her revenge much sooner.

"You're awake."

A woman's voice.

With a snarl, Komari whipped her head around on the bed to yell at her captor... Before snapping it shut at the kind warm eyes regarding her back, a woman she had never seen before, smiling gently and was addressing to the Dark Jedi's wounds. But Komari was no fool, even she could see the pain reflected in those soft brown eyes, gained from years of hardship herself.

Perhaps much more than her own...

"Please try not to move too much," The kind older woman said softly, applying the wet cloth to one of her old scars.

 _Not that I have much of a choice,_ Komari thought bitterly, tugging at the Force inhibitors binding her arms and legs to the bed. Of course, her old master would leave nothing to chance. Not that it'll save him. When she gets the chance she'll-

"I've seen that look before."

Komari's head snapped back towards the woman, "What?" She asked blankly, wondering where this lower lifeform was going with this pointless attempt for conversation.

With a soft smile, her medic continued, as if recalling something while wiping away the wounds. Komari barely flinched at the personal touch. "My son would always have that look of anger and frustration whenever Watto had demanded too much of him. Ani had such a hard life... I'm happy he has found a better purpose than slavery."

Slavery...?

The Dark Jedi frowned, "Who are you?" She demanded, and the aged woman met her stare with clear kind eyes, and Komari forced herself not to look away at such light staring into her own cold cruel orbs.

The older woman then smiled, "My name is Shmi Skywalker. What is yours?"

Dooku didn't tell her...?

"Your worst nightmare," Korami simply responded menacingly, taking advantage of this woman's poor ignorance. But she barely batted an eye, nodding before continuing tending to the wounds, to the former Jedi's slight irritation. "You're a slave then."

A statement, not a question.

But Skywalker only nodded, focusing on the wound, "Or was, I suppose. Count Dooku offered me employment, away from the previous life I have grown so use to. I am blessed." Komari snorted. Oh yes, blessed. An emotion the young woman had never experienced in her whole life, only once; when her master had chosen her as a Padawan.

But that was so long ago...

"Anger won't solve anything."

What? Cold eyes focused on Skywalker, who remained unfazed, smiling gently with a kind almost lecturing tone, "Cruelty and anger won't help you throughout life. Facing hardships can only be repelled by the caring you give in return, and the love you share."

Those eyes... Staring at her with such kindness and warmth. Like a mother regarding a child fondly. And Komari couldn't stop herself looking away this time, having not felt so vulnerable since the Bando Gora took her. And...

But before she could respond or this kind woman could continue, the sound of the door to the medbay opened, prompting their gazes to look over. And what came in filled the leader of the Bando Gora with disgust and hatred.

Yet, to her annoyance, Dooku only regarded her back casually, before addressing the slave, "Thank you, Miss Skywalker. I must speak with Komari here alone, if you would."

Nodding, the older woman packed up her things, smiling gently again at the trapped Dark Jedi, "I'll see you later, Komari."

As if either had the right to address her like that!

Dooku watched Skywalker depart, waiting for the door to close before looking back, appraising his hostage, "She has tended to you well, I see."

"I wasn't aware you bought slaves now, 'Master.'" Komari retorted, hoping to get a reaction out of the man she despised the most.

But he barely flinched, keeping that cool facade he worn even as her teacher, "Miss Skywalker is hardly a slave, my former pupil. Not anymore. But that is not what we're discussing today."

"I have nothing to say to you," The Dark Jedi spat, contempt leaking from her burning eyes and venomous voice, "Other than my endless hatred for you. For what you did to me."

Dooku only smiled, "You always were quick to blame others. I see that hasn't changed." Yet before she could retort, the Count took a seat beside her bed, shaking his head calmly, "I admit, allowing you to be captured by the Bando Gora like that, I had blamed myself upon learning of it, long ago. Perhaps I still do... But intend to rectify that mistake, here and now."

Oh did he now?

"The only possible way to accomplish as such, Master, is to finish me while I'm trapped like this, here and now." Komari smiled crudely.

But Dooku only frowned, speaking in that tone the Dark Jedi recognized from her days as a student of the Force, "Do not forget, Komari, you swore your allegiance to me after I had bested you on the moon of Bogden. We reached an agreement, and I shall see to it you honour your end of the bargain."

The woman only scowled, "And why should I trust you?"

"Because believe me when I say I have your best interests at heart." Komari snorted, and Dooku simply shrugged, "Believe what you wish. But I do truly regret what happened to you, and I know you might never forgive me for allowing this pain - this injustice - done to you. But this time, I will not let it conclude poorly again."

This time...?

"We face a threat greater than anything the galaxy has witnessed before, my young pupil," Dooku gestured rather dramatically, and Komari refrained from grinning at the gesture. He was always one for theatrics. "And I need your help, along with your underworld assets."

Seeing as how she had no choice...

"What do you require of me...?" Komari then asked coldly, daring the Count to ask too much of her.

But he only grinned lightly, "For now, a simple chat. We have much catching up to do, my old Padawan."

* * *

 **AN: Look, I know many of you like Anakin, and think of his story as tragic, and I respect oponions. But I'm sorry, you're not going to change my mind on the matter; he's a psychotic murderer with an unhealthy obsession for getting what he wants. Let's not forget he spent over twenty years terrorizing the galaxy as a Sith then thirteen years saving it as a Jedi. Saving Luke's life in the end doesn't immediately redeem him from all the horrific atrocities he's committed.**

 **Plus, I don't forgive nor sympathize with willing child murderers.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter! And, by the way, if you have any suggestions as to what you think should occur in the next chapter, I'd love to hear it. Qui-Gon and Anakin in the Coruscant underworld? Asajj and Komari meeting one another? A conversation between Palpatine and Obi-Wan? The funeral of Jar Jar Binks? If you have any ideas, let me know. I do read the reviews, after all.**

 **Until then my friends!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Thank you for all the reviews so far, my friends, and I have taken your suggestions to heart! Enjoy!**

* * *

In many ways, the Force was considered an avatar.

It presents itself to the living through various ways; people, the trees, the rocks, everything related to nature and the galaxy at large. From the ground to the clouds, the Force watched over all living things, and guided them with or without their own ignorance. For countless eons, the Force brought life to everything that ever existed, be it light or dark. And, over generations, it also brought death.

Ky Narec took a long moment, his stern eyes cast over the desolate landscape with pity and sympathy. Other times, the Force brings war. It would be arrogant to assume that the darkness alone was responsible for every conflict, every illness, every death. Over almost two decades of Rattatak has changed his perspective on things as a Jedi.

The Force was balance; an avatar of chaos and harmony. Life and death. Light and darkness.

"Master?"

His student's concerned voice called from behind. Arms folded, Ky barely looked over his shoulder, instead inclining his head towards the dark, wartorn lands crafted by centuries of conflict, "You can see Padawan, that the galaxy shows just as much death as it does life. Our battles in Rattatak pale in comparison to the many wars which spread on countless worlds."

And soon, the entire galaxy, with two powerful Sith Lords declaring war against one another.

"It's awful..." Asajj whispered, loud enough for her master to hear, "All the struggling, the hardships on this world... And the Republic refused to yield and help them."

"The Republic can't save everyone young one," Ky reminded his pupil, Dooku's words coming to mind. His eyes narrowed, "But yes, no planet nor people deserves such conflict from all the way to their ancestors."

A part of him wondered. Was Dooku right? Had the Galactic Republic descended into darkness long before its Chancellor was a Sith? Ky had never been properly involved with the politics, preferring to delve into action than the machinations of power-hungry Senators. Was this all a huge test to shake Ky's conviction? A ploy perhaps, to turn the Jedi Master against the Republic he had sworn to protect?

"Master," Asajj spoke from beside the teacher, prompting him to meet her pale concerned eyes. Asajj was never one to inwardly conceal her emotions, "Is it right for us to trust this Count Dooku? If he is a Sith, isn't he our enemy?"

The young Dathomirian had spoken her master's own thoughts. Ky remained silent for a moment, pondering the very question himself. Sith were masters of deception, Asajj was right to be just as skeptical as he was, and Ky applauded her caution. Although, the Force continued to assure him that Dooku was playing a pivotal role towards the galaxy, a sensation which took Ky off-guard. Why would a practitioner of the dark side be of great significance to the Force so? Regardless, Ky had not taken Dooku into custody as request by the Force, choosing to give the old ex-Jedi the benefit of the doubt.

Though that hardly meant Ky trusted him.

"What do your feelings tell you Asajj?" The Master asked his Padawan instead.

Asajj frowned, pale eyes regarding the carved ground in thought, concentrating on what the Force was telling her. The answer was quiet, contemplative, "I think... We should heed his words until we are proven otherwise," Ky nodded, smiling slightly. Asajj looked back up, expression now curious, "But Master, if Dooku-"

"Count Dooku, Asajj."

The younger woman flushed, "Count Dooku then... Wants to save the galaxy, then why has he become an enemy of all that is peace?"

A question Ky was uncertain of. He desired as much answers from the Count as Asajj, in addition to wanting to question Sifo-Dyas about his own alliance with the Sith. Yet before he could open his mouth, the Force alerted him of danger.

Both mentor and pupil snapped their heads in the direction of a speeder engine's roar.

They were coming, the very thugs Ky and Asajj had been told to dispatch by Jabiim's government, who were more than relieved to have Jedi aiding their world, whether sent by the Republic or not. Two green blades ignited, illuminating their stern features, Asajj, previous looking concerned, now reflecting the exact look as her Master.

Heavy blaster fire erupted from one of the approaching speeders, and Ky deflected the shots without difficulty. Asajj leapt out of the way of the bike, whereas Ky swerved around and prompting slashed down against the front of the speeder as it zoomed by in a failed attempt to hit the Jedi. From a distance, the vehicle and its occupant exploded in a fiery demise, and both Jedi raised their weapons in sync.

This time, the approaching speeders slowed down and eventually halted, but still active. And the Trandoshan in the middle of the group snarled with gleeful eyes, "Jedi," It rasped, "The hunt just became more interesting."

"Though you should ask yourself," Ky answered calmly, gripping his lightsaber in a Djem So stance, "Which of us is the real predator."

And the battlefield received many more victims.

* * *

Across the galaxy, on the far peaceful side, Naboo was conducting its own ceremony; a funeral to remember the Gungan who made... An impact on their lives.

To which, Sidious thought, would be putting it generously.

From pedastal, looming about the metallic casket containing the deceased representative, the obese leader of the Gungans spoke with that mighty offensive tongue of his, "Jar Jar was both a blessing, and blight on our lives. Heesa was clumsy, and yet kind. A hero who saved both the Naboo and Gungan kind with his clumsy bravery. Meesa is proud to have recognized him, not just as a General or politician, but friend."

From far off in the standing crowd, another Gungan whose gender couldn't be identified wailed in despair, prompting Sidious to inwardly roll his eyes. The majority of people gathered today at Jar Jar's - albeit undeserving - funeral were Senators and Gungans, and many of them only attended as a formality. As if anyone in their right mind would truly miss the oaf; Gungans couldn't use their brains with the highest functionality otherwise they wouldn't have bothered coming, and Amidala at the front row was too sentimental for her own good.

Although it was a shame, the Sith Lord mused. The Gungan was intended to be a backup plan in case the Naboo senator became too much of a hassle to his plans. Ah well, there's always someone elses strings to pull.

"May the gods bless heesa soul," Followed by that disgusting tongue thing that made the fat excuse for a leader look as though he was having a spastic attack.

Afterwards, Gungans and Senators alike gave their blessings, each walking individually by the casket to mutter a few words of solemness. Palpatine had only gave the rotting Gungan a fleeting glance and only moving his mouth without making a sound. As if there was anything truly respectable to say towards this being of incredibly less intelligence.

Aside from "You were perhaps the most gullible toy of all."

On the plus side, this now meant he wouldn't have to worry about the deceased jester breaking anything in his own office.

And while staying to the side as everyone else were now conversing with oen another about trivial things, the Sith Lord spotted the very person he sought to speak personally with this entire time. Dismissing his guards, Palpatine pursued the Jedi who slunk away from the masses, trailing him down one of the many colourful corridors of this basic underwater city.

"Master Kenobi!"

The young Jedi Knight paused, whirling around to face the Chancellor, and bowed humbly, "Supreme Chancellor."

"Are you alright?"

Kenobi nodded, a small smile on his lips for the sake of politeness to the leader of the Republic, "I'm well, thank you Chancellor, although I should be asking you that question, considering the circumstances."

Palpatine waved dismissively, a pleasant look on his aged features, "Contrary to popular belief, Master Jedi, it is not the first assassination attempt I have survived. But this time, I had the blessings of a Jedi to defend me. I wish to thank you personally for saving my life."

Kenobi inclined his head, "No thanks are necessary, your Excellency. I merely reacted in time and prevented one innocent life from death... Only for another to take the fate."

Sidious refrained from smirking at the Jedi's view of 'innocence' towards him, and Palpatine adopted a solemn look, tone lowering in sadness, "Yes... It's a tragedy for such a thing to be bestowed upon Representative Binks. He only wished to do what was right for his own people. You're a good friend for attending his funeral."

"He helped us save his homeworld, it was an obligation to come here."

Typical Jedi response. Yet the Chancellor only smiled patiently, glancing back at the far-off glass room where everyone else resided, "Forgive me, Master Kenobi, but I couldn't help but notice the absence of Master Jinn or his Padawan the entire time, unless my sight has been failing me as of late. Were they not friends of our Representative too?"

Something briefly flickered in Kenobi's eyes, prompting Sidious to raise a brow, and there was something about his tone that warranted investigation, "You are not mistaken, Chancellor; Master Jinn and Padawan Skywalker are on an assignment by the Jedi Council."

Palpatine expressed skepticism, "This assignment of theirs couldn't have waited until after Representative Binks' funeral?"

"The Council deemed it a high priority," The tone was clipped, and something cracked through Kenobi's facade expression. A minuscule of negative emotion which presented itself before the Sith Lord only for a split-second.

And Sidious recognized it as jealously...

Interesting.

"Well, the Council knows bet of course," Palpatine responded, reaching up to place a gentle hand on the Knight's shoulder, his dark thoughts conjuring up plans that could use this to his advantage, "In any case, I wish to express my gratitude the fullest way possible. I know you and I don't know each other all too well, but that can be rectified. I propose a beginning of friendship between Chancellor and Jedi."

Kenobi raised a brow, "I believed you had a Jedi acquaintance once. Master Kim?"

"Ah, yes," The Naboo politician adopted somberness at the name of the old deceased Jedi Knight, "Ronhar Kim was someone I admired and respected greatly, who helped me understand your Order more during my early years as a Senator. Perhaps, I can understand the working of the Jedi much further with our friendship. Do you accept, Master Kenobi?"

A neutral gaze regarded the offered hand, but not even the Knight's emotion can be guarded from the darkness. Sidious drank in the uncertainty with relish. So many feelings befitting of a Jedi residing in this man, yearning to come out. A small trace of blackness - faint, but visible - rested in the Knight's soul. Obi-Wan Kenobi was beginning to become more of a puzzle, and Darth Sidious so enjoyed a challenge.

Perhaps, if Oppress failed to fulfill his needs, Kenobi might be a far more reliable asset... Dooku's blatant failed attempt to kill his rival would only benefit the one true Sith much more further.

Finally, a strong hand shook his own, the Knight nodding with a small smile, "It would be an honour, Supreme Chancellor."

"Please, simply call me Palpatine, while we're not in public," The Chancellor smiled pleasantly, guiding himself and the young Knight back to the funeral room, "Tell me, do you play chess Master Jedi?"

* * *

"This is an utter disappointment," Viceroy Nute Gunray all but bemoaned, after the holonews had disappeared, "The Chancellor survived the assassination by that bounty hunter. We could've used this to our advantage."

On the contrary, Dooku mused, this went precisely as planned.

The failed attack against the leader of the Republic sent a clear message towards the people of that diseased government: no one is safe. With the Chancellor now under heavier guard, anxiety and apprehension has seeded through the Republic, and people will begin to question the safety of the system they had been born into. And, with Sidious now being kept a close eye on, the majority of the Republic's attention was now focused on the welfare of their beloved Chancellor, giving Dooku ample time to further spread seeds of distrust in the Core Worlds and Outer Rim.

He will provide Jango with the credits after this meeting with the future Separatist Council was concluded. But for now, he had a Neimoidian to humour.

"You fail to notice the advantage this provides us, my friend," The Count appeased the Viceroy, smiling confidently.

"I agree," Shu Mai, President of the Commerce Guild, nodded, gesturing to the others around her, "We will be free to expand our plans across the galaxy with a wider gap presented to us. The Republic will focus only on their esteemed leader, while we can conduct our businesses more freely without them sniffing us out."

"In addition," The Count continued, looking around at the attendants of the round table, "Our unnamed hunter friend had demonstrated the incompetence of the Republic's guards. The chaos will last for a sufficient while. We will use this opportunity to persuade more allies to our cause."

The Council was smaller than it was during the Clone Wars, as Dooku had yet to gain all the key players at this time. Attending the meeting on Serenno now were Viceroy Gunray of the Trade Federation, President Shu Mai of the Commerce Guild, Foreman Tambor of the Techno Union, and Archduke Poggle the Lesser of Geonosian Industries. The very first members Dooku had recruited in the previous timeline to form the Separatist movement, and now history repeats itself.

The Geonosian clicked in his native tongue, and Dooku nodded, "Indeed my friend, we must take action at once while its in our grasp. Viceroy, your attempts over persuading worlds indebted to your Federation?"

The Neimoidian's lips thinned, "It's a steady process, Count, we will need more time to-"

Harsh laughter barked against the Viceroy, "It is fine to admit you are not doing a very good job of maintaining hold of your clients, Viceroy," Shy Mai spoke condescendingly, prompting Gunray's flustered reaction.

"It is more than what can be said for your inferior Commerce Guild! We have more clients within the Core Worlds than you do in-!"

Dooku held up a placate gesture, and nudge from the Force by him caused the two arguing corrupt business leaders to calm somewhat, "We are not here to quarrel, my friends. Our alliance is for the good of the galaxy, and our businesses separately. To accomplish this shared goal of ridding the corrupt Republic and maintain an order of peace and fairness, we must cooperate without even the faintest hint of treason. Agreed?"

"Agreed, Count Dooku," Wat Tambor spoke next, whilst Gunray and Mai eyed one another sourly from their places, "The Techno Union offers to persuade over companies that has allied with us to join this cause. They will be useful for manufacturing an army, in addition to vehicles and fleet ships, for this alliance in our inevitable war against the vile Republic."

Poggle concurred with the Foreman Skakoan in his own tongue, offering his own suggestions and assets in turn.

And Dooku inwardly smirked. Poggle was the closest member of the alliance Dooku once had to a friend, and Tambor could be trusted should his own pride not get the better of him at times. The disgraceful loss during the Battle of Ryloth was evidence of pride over common sense.

Still they all had their uses. Like the previous timeline, Dooku viewed these corrupt business individuals as more tools than reliable allies. They were self-centered, crying about the Republic's lack of support to their own corporations while being just as unfair and oppressive towards those that were indebted to them. Dooku inwardly sneered in disgust. None of them were to be truly trusted with his real plans, but it was imperative the Sith Lord convinced every know leader of the previous alliance to join his cause once more, before Sidious could possibly get to them.

Even if that meant tolerating their bickering once again.

A beeping noise was heard on the table, and Dooku pressed the response button, a holographic call from a Jedi Master the Count recognized easily. The representatives also regarded the large Jedi hovering over the round table, "Master Narec," Dooku greeted casually, "I trust you have news for us?"

"Why he allows Jedi to join him I'll never know..." Gunray muttered in clear distaste.

Ky didn't seem to hear that, bowing politely, "Count Dooku, the Trandoshan Raiders have been repelled. They've retreated, and Jabiim is now indebted to you, just as you have planned."

"Jabiim?" Mai questioned, "That backwater world with no value whatsoever?"

If only she knew.

"Additionally," The Jedi Master continued with a straightened posture, as though the Gossam hadn't spoken, "The Jabiim Congress are having a private discussion as we speak. I had spoken with the congress about joining your cause," The news just gets better, "And someone right now would like to speak with you."

And Dooku had a suspicion as to who. He nodded, smiling pleasantly, "You and your student have done well, Ky Narec. Report back to me once the congress has ended, and the Jabiim government had made a decision. I will speak with our friend," Ky nodded in turn, stepping out of the way for a warrior with long hair entering their field of vision, and strong features hardened by battle, "Alto Stratus, it is an honour."

The head of the Jabiim Nationalist Army raised a brow, "You know of me?"

"Your reputation is well-know even on Serenno, my friend. I trust you wish to thank me personally for providing assistance?"

"By sending Jedi, no less, Count Dooku. You had succeeded where the Republic failed," Alto's lips curled into a strong smile, showing confidence yet gratitude at once, "You have the thanks of my people. I personally would be interested in joining your cause against a corrupt Republic."

The pieces was falling into place more smoother than the Count anticipated. He hid a smile.

"I have some more news for you, Alto; the Trandoshan Raiders won't be the last threat against your homeworld..."

* * *

This was so unfair!

For the thirteenth time now, Anakin internally objected to his Master's idea, standing outside the seedy-looking cantina. Master Qui-Gon insisted the young teenager stationed himself at the doorway, just in case anything happens outside they could pursue immediately. Anakin understood what his mentor meant, but that didn't mean he wasn't entirely useless helping the older Jedi inside the establishment; he can take care of himself, capable of fending off anyone down in the lower levels who tried to rob him blind or something stupid.

The point was, his Master was being unreasonable. One of the few times Anakin disagreed with his orders.

When the Council dispatched them to investigate the Coruscant underworld to find any leads in their hunt for the assassin against the Chancellor, Anakin was thrilled to take the assignment. He briefly wondered how Chancellor Palpatine was taking the attempted assassination; he wouldn't know, having never spoken properly with the man. The young Jedi Padawan was more than eager to prove himself to the Council who clearly disliked him for some reason. Four years under their eyes was more than enough for Anakin to know they didn't trust him or his Master. But now, they can prove them wrong!

And yet, Qui-Gon ordered he stayed outside. And so he obliged, albeit reluctantly, with arms folded and keeping on a mask of composure. Though inwardly, he wished something would happen to dull the boredom slowly growing in his mind. Constantly blankly regarding passerbys or drunken banthas as they glanced at him with amusement or downright sneers was beginning to wane on his patience.

He can hear Qui-Gon now from inside the filthy cantina, lecturing him about patience and the virtue of good things coming to those who-

His highly attuned senses picked up on something, an unknown Force presence prickling at his brain. Anakin, by reaction, dropped the mask of composure - scolding himself somewhat for it - as he looked around wildly, trying to disclose the exact location of this signature that was strong in the Force. He's had enough training to be able to sense it, but seemingly not enough to pinpoint the precise location with such large crowds of weaker Force signatures all around him.

Was it a Jedi? But why would one be here? Backup maybe?

Anakin glanced at the doorway into the buzzing cantina, sounds of people enjoying themselves and lights emanating from the structure. Should he get Qui-Gon, alert him of this presence? The Jedi hesitated, looking back and forth between the building entry and the crowd of people that transverse through the underworld.

Well... Qui-Gon did tell him to remain outside while he asked questions around the place. And if there's backup, Anakin can lead he or she over here to help with the investigation.

Decision made, the Chosen One broke into a brisk pace, a young boy shoving himself past snarling aliens and the like as he locked down on the signature. At least now he was finally doing something beneficial.

Ignoring looks of disdain and seedy smiles by hobos and smugglers alike, Anakin rushed to find the presence, using the Force with all his ability. He was more than capable of it; he was the Chosen One, as Qui-Gon had said it was okay for him to acknowledge himself as such. He was destined to destroy the Sith; he can find one simple person among thousands more.

There!

Spotting the familiar robe of a Jedi's swishing around the corner, Anakin quickened his pace, hurrying to catch up with the unknown Jedi. Could this guy not sense him as well? He was told that every Jedi in the Temple could detect his presence even from the other side of the Temple. So what was this guy's deal?

Maybe he knew he was being followed and thought Anakin was a threat. The young Jedi frowned at that thought, the idea absurd whilst passing another corner, spotting the presence entering a nearby alleyway. Who would deem him a threat, other than clearly the Council? Everyone knows his Force signature. He must want to talk without the public hearing. Yes, that must be it.

With that, Anakin confidently strode into the dark alley... And halted afterwards. Light from the underworld barely illuminated the place, but he could see at the far end the alleyway leading into two separate paths. Worse, the Chosen One could no longer sense the signature.

Maybe he was in trouble...

It only took a few more steps within the place for his question to be answered. Anakin froze at the stern voice, "It's dangerous to wander around without your Master, Padawan."

Slowly, the Padawan turned around, anxiousness settling into his features. The light only revealed a good side of the Jedi Master's face, revealing a bearded man with strong features and judgmental eyes. Although his beard was far more styled and groomed than Qui-Gon's wild facial hair. Arms folded in his sleeves, the taller Jedi peered down at Anakin, raising a brow.

Whoever this was, Anakin had no recollection ever meeting this particular Jedi at the Temple. Anakin swallowed before finally regaining his voice, "Um... Are you our backup?"

"'Backup?'" The Jedi Master echoed, frowning softly, "Where is your Master, Padawan?"

The Chosen One, yet again, hesitated, "B-Back at the cantina. I thought you were here to-"

"Anakin!"

Hearing the stern yet concerned call of his Master, Anakin whirled around, grinning in relief to see his Qui-Gon striding diligently towards them, "Master! Backup's here!"

At least, he thought that's who this Jedi was.

The Jedi Master slowed down upon reaching them, sounding as stern yet warm as ever, "Anakin, I've told you about venturing off in the lower levels alone. You must be careful." Anakin looked at the ground, feeling shame. Technically he didn't disobey his Master, but he did feel somewhat ashamed when Qui-Gon put it that way. Qui-Gon's weary sight drew his attention back up, the Master looking from him to the Jedi behind Anakin, but this time, he sounded more serious, "Master Sifo-Dyas."

Wait, the Jedi they unsuccessfully looked for on Rattatak? What?

Anakin whipped his head around at the other Jedi, who smiled faintly at the name, "Master Jinn. It is good to see you again."

* * *

 **AN: Hope you enjoyed the chapter of this month! Again, I'm open to any suggestions you have over what should occur next time; I encourage creativity from everyone. The pieces are coming into place. But of course, Dooku won't be able to rally up all the previous Separatist allies earlier than he did the last timeline. Setting up an entire new government made to oppose the oppression and corruption of another democracy - a galactic-sized one at that - doesn't happen in a fortnight. And probably no one more than Dooku understands the value of patience and taking time with moving things along.**

 **Until then my friends!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. If I did, I'd rewrite the entire prequels and make Dooku and Obi-Wan the heroes.**

* * *

The Force was with Qui-Gon and Anakin today. When the former felt his Padawan's signature growing distant overtime during his own investigations into that rather repulsive cantina, the Jedi Master had expected his energetic pupil to have followed someone suspicious, someone who exited the structure under Qui-Gon's nose. Or perhaps Anakin sensed danger and went to investigate on his own right - Without his Master's permission for, say, Force knows how many times.

Instead, Anakin led the following Jedi right to the one suspect they were tracking down to begin with on their previous assignment. The Padawan looked more than relieved at seeing Qui-Gon again, and although he was grateful the boy was unharmed, there were far more pressing matters before their very eyes. Though the Council handed them the new mission to investigate the assassination attempt behind the Supreme Chancellor, the Force led instead led the Jedi on the path of their missing comrade.

"Master Sifo-Dyas."

The missing Master nodded in turn, calm exterior betraying nothing. "Master Jinn, it is good to see you again." Both Jedi Masters folded their arms, giving one another calculating stares, neither daring to make a move. Mace expressed the Council's suspicions that Sifo-Dyas wasn't so loyal to the Jedi as they thought.

And after what he and Anakin witnessed on Rattatak, it might not be entirely unjustified.

"You've been well, I trust."

Stalling. Qui-Gon could play this game, he nodded. "Well enough. The Council has often pondered where you have been absent to. I trust you haven't been in too much trouble yourself?"

The corners of Sifo-Dyas' mouth twitched upwards. "You can inform the Council that I have been well myself. I have only been tracking some leads towards the causes behind the Battle of Naboo."

"I'm certain you can tell the Council this yourself." Between them, Anakin glanced at both stoic Masters, obviously trying to discern what was happening.

Ignoring that remark, the Jedi they had been looking for inquired with a raised brow towards the fidgeting Padawan, "Your pupil, I presume?" Qui-Gon only nodded, repressing an urge to reach out and conceal Anakin behind his back. "I trust Padawan Kenobi passed his trials then."

"After the Battle of Naboo."

"Ah." This time, a more lighter smile. "My late congratulations then. From what I've heard, he will be a remarkable Jedi yet." He already was. But that was far from what was significant here. "What brings you here to the under levels?"

That was enough. "Master Sifo-Dyas, I believe it's best you return with us to the Temple posthaste. The Council wishes to speak with you after your four-year absence." The other Master said nothing, only regarding Qui-Gon stonily. Anakin's mentor took one step forward. "I'd prefer you don't consider resisting-"

"Master!"

Anakin cried out, and the teacher felt himself being forced back by the preteen in his stomach, saving both Jedi from what would've been a disastrous fate. The fire and smoke before him blew both Master and Padawan hurling backwards, rolling around on the filthy ground before landing in awkward positions. Fire greeted his vision, heated touching against his aging skin, smoke inhaling into his lungs, and that was all the incentive Qui-Gon needed to immediately sit up and call out whilst coughing.

"Anakin!"

And, to his immense relief, the boy appeared unharmed. Coughing violently himself, the young pupil glanced dazedly at his teacher. "Master...?" Before something alerted them both in the Force. "Master! Master Sifo-Dyas!"

Qui-Gon looked over to the fire which separated the two from the other Master, but after a quick check with the Force. "He's alive Anakin." The signature was as bright as ever. Bright... With little to no traces of the dark. That both befuddled and worried the Jedi Master, but there was no time for that. Both Jedi carefully stood up, before Anaking pointed upwards again.

"There!" There indeed. For the lights of the lively underworld revealed the man coated in silver armour, immediately recognizable from Obi-Wan's descriptions over the Chancellor's office incident. Standing atop one of the roofs overlooking the alleyway, the assassin in the helmet stared blankly at the two Jedi that dodged his missile, but Qui-Gon could feel the glare behind the visor. And, ignoring Anakin's cry of "Hey, stop!" The armoured man activated his jetpack and began flying overhead, past the two watching Jedi before attempting to escape. "I've got him Master!"

"Anakin! Stop!" Qui-Gon called, to no avail, as his Padawan started pursuing with that youthful speed after the feeling opponent. The Jedi Master made to follow before-

"Master Jinn!"

Ah, right.

Sifo-Dyas, having leaped over the fire growing in the alleyway, joined with his fellow Jedi, looking both concerned and serious. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, but my apprentice to pursuing our would-be assassin. Let us help him." The other nodded, and both Masters chased after the sound of a jetpack and Anakin's bright Force Signature, the latter which was impossible to miss.

The boy burned brighter than the stars themselves.

And if anything happened to him, Qui-Gon would never forgive himself.

"There!" Sifo-Dyas called out, and they both paused upon arriving past fleeing citizens at the sound of blaster fire and a lightsaber hum at an edge overlooking the large speedway. Hover vehicles of all sizes whizzed past, below, and overhead, and, to Qui-Gon's immense exasperation, the young Jedi was now chasing after the assassin by hitching a ride on one into the large traffics of Coruscant.

Calling out to his Padawan would be futile. Qui-Gon learned from experience.

Instead, he spoke roughly to his fellow Jedi beside him, "Contact the Council. Inform them we are in pursuit of the Chancellor's attacker." And leaped from the edge despite not hearing the other Master's response, landing withe the Force on one of many speeders heading in Anakin's direction. The Gran piloting gawked at the Jedi Master suddenly hitching a ride, and Qui-Gon spoke both casually, "You wouldn't mind assisting an old Jedi Master in the pursuit of justice, would you?"

And as the Gran only gulped and nodded, the harsh wind whipping against Qui-Gon's greying long hair and beard, only one thought came to mind as they chased after his stubborn apprentice and the armoured assassin.

 _I'm getting too old for this._

* * *

Anakin was faring no better than his mentor.

Unlike Qui-Gon, he was unorthodox for the thrill of it, enjoying taking charge of situations and circumstances he deemed only his methods were right. And they often were. And that included leaping from speeder to speeder, chasing after the assassin who had to pause every so often on a vehicle to recharge his jetpack.

All sound was death to Anakin but the wind, tearing through his ears. Not even the hum of his azure lightsaber or the blaster bolts in his direction could be heard. The lights of imposing buildings they sped by were a blur, his vision focused only on the target the Jedi was entirely keen of not allowing to get away. Concentrating in the Force, he deflected bolts with relative ease, uncaring which direction they were heading. The underworld was filled with scum anyway, people down here died by the dozen.

He imagined Qui-Gon's chiding, but ignored it to focus on the present. Now _that_ he listened to.

Thankfully, as this was the lower levels, the traffic before the Jedi wasn't nearly as huge and dangerous as the countless speeders above Coruscant. There was less for Anakin to worry about, hopping from one speeder to the next, greeted by a disgruntled yelling Dug piloting the vehicle. Anakin ignored, his saber whirling around to block more of the blaster fire headed his way. The assassin flew from one speeder to the next, evidently trying to reach a point where the path would be split into two so he could get away.

Not that Anakin let that happen. As soon as the path began to split for the vehicles, the young Padawan leaped upwards, over a whizzing by speeder and onto the ride before the speeder the armoured man fired from. Anakin grinned, sensing the irritation roll from his target whilst deflecting more of the man's double blasters. He'd have to give the assassin credit, however, he was a good shot. If Anakin didn't have his lightsaber now, he'd be dead way before now.

Then, the assassin made his own crucial mistake. One block from the Jedi caused a bolt to hit the back engine of the speeder the silver-armoued target hitched a ride on. The engine sputtered, the pilot screaming in fright, but the assassin remained impassive despite stumbling briefly, jumping from the side in order to escape.

And, using that opportunity, the Force helped Anakin leap from the other speeder, crashing into the assassin's armoured stomach before he could activate his jetpack, azure lightsaber aimed before the man's neck. Together, both assassin and Jedi plunged down deeper into the levels below, but Anakin was far more focused on making this man pay for trying to harm the Chancellor and another Jedi, who was Qui-Gon's former apprentice.

Even if they didn't get along too well-

Anakin cringed in pain, feeling his own stomach kneed by the assassin, who used that advantage to grab his wrist, pulling his lightsaber hand away and using his other fist to deliver the Jedi a swift punch. And, although he was only in his teens, Anakin should never, _ever_ be underestimated. His own free hand blocked the gloved hit, throwing his arm around the man's wrist to keep them in a lock, attempting to swerve the lightsaber hilt around his fingers and catch the assassin by surprise.

However, the assassin didn't feel like getting decapitated today. With the sound of a jetpack, the man delivered a swift kick straight into the Padawan's chest, inciting a pained cry and the lightsaber hilt to loosen from his fingers.

Right into the assassin's hand.

Without any sympathy, the armoured assassin gave Anakin another kick, prompting the young Jedi to wince in further pain and release the man's wrist. Satisfied, the man stared at the young glaring Jedi, and from behind the visor Anakin could picture the smug triumph on his expression, inciting the Jedi to snarl thrust his palm forward, and the powerful Force Push sent the stunned assassin hurtling back in the air, far from the Padawan, and Anakin was still falling towards his demise.

The Padawan closed his eyes, shame and disappointment enveloping his mind. He was going to die, and he had failed Qui-Gon. The death was warranted, he supposed-

That was, until a strong firm hand caught the falling Jedi by the scruff of his collar, and Anakin blinked at the sudden halt from descending to his demise. Slowly craning his neck around, he met the stern gaze of his mentor. But through their bond, Anakin sensed the relief radiate from him.

Pulling Anakin onto the halted speeder, Qui-Gon knelt down to face his ashamed pupil, gently grabbing his arms. "Anakin." The tone was soft despite the baritone voice. "Are you alright?"

Was he alright? No, not really.

"I failed, Master." His lightsaber was taken and he failed to catch the assassin, who would be long gone by now. In a fit of rage, he allowed his own emotions to help their target escape. Qui-Gon, by all rights, should be mad. "I failed you..." The Master said nothing, but Anakin was pulled into a soft, comforting embrace, which he curled up to, releasing his own shame and anger to the understanding teacher.

* * *

"That was careless of you."

Jango shrugged, the Jedi's opinion of his tactics irrelevant to the task at hand. "It gets the job done." Before presenting the hilt he graciously acquired from the kid before making his escape earlier. When the boy's Master was focused on retrieving his pupil, Jango hitched a ride on a speeder he found himself underneath after that unpleasant ride by the boy's bizarre powers.

Sifo-Dyas scowled, arms folded beneath his excessive sleeves. Jango briefly wondered it gave the Jedi a sense of big-headed omniscience. "A weapon is a Jedi's life. You had no right taking it." Again, Jango shrugged, the ideals of a Jedi meaning little next to nothing to him. The two convened within an alley far from sight of the crowd, a rendezvous point previously chosen. The Jedi sighed. "But what's done is done, I suppose. Has your own meeting been successful?"

Jango nodded. "Representatives of the Black Sun are eager to meet with the Count after the message has been relayed." It took a taxing method in order to even speak with them, but the bounty hunter made certain to grab their attention by throwing the charred corpses of their bodyguards on the table upon entry. "I trust your Jedi didn't stop you from your own meeting?"

Sifo-Dyas nodded. "The Pykes have agreed to a meeting with Dooku, let us hope what he intends will be successful."

"Whatever gets me paid."

A strong raised brow. "I'm grateful, at least, that you didn't kill the boy during the chase."

Jango cocked his head. "A Padawan's death would mean little to my reputation. Besides, I've been paid not to target any Jedi; I only provided the means for you to escape when I spotted you being tracked by your kind."

"I had it under control."

"Even when your fellow Master threatened to take you back to that Temple by force?"

Sifo-Dyas frowned slightly at the sarcastic inquiry, before turning to depart. "Come, we should make our report to Dooku. I already dispatched a signal for the Council to pick up Master Jinn and hsi Padawan, though they will find no traces leading to me."

"Let's hope not. Last thing we need is you growing soft despite the Count's wishes." Jango pointed out, walking besides the Jedi. Though he held an initial dislike for their kind, this was a necessary evil. The Count was paying for the Mandalorian to work with the Jedi under his employment, and Jango would be damned before allowing his own prejudices to interfere with his professionalism.

A ghostly smile emerged on Sifo-Dyas' lips. "Yes. He can be rather annoyed in the face of sentimentality." Before glancing down at Jango's latest trophy attacked to his belt. "I would recommend returning that to its rightful owner."

"Eventually." Was Jango's clipped reply beneath the helmet. "After the boy prys it from my cold, dead hands."

* * *

"We are honoured by your arrival, Count Dooku." The Nightsister stated sagely, that echoing after-voice hovering through the air within the room. The Count, after a rather tedious escort by wary Nightsisters with their daggers and bows for the sudden visit, took his seat at the other side of the table as gestured to, recalling the similar events from another life, the golden goblet with green liquid conjured up before him.

"Your hospitality is appreciated, Mother Talzin." The Leader of the Nightsister Clan waved off the compliment, taking her own place facing the esteemed Count. "I trust you know what brought my visit to Dathomir this time around?"

"Yes." Talzin nodded, pale tattooed expression thoughtful. "You offer assistance in searching for the man who attacked the Nightbrother village." She was as every bit the calculating mysterious mistress the Count recalled for the previous timeline. And if she despised their shared enemy as she had back then.

Well, who wouldn't take advantage of this unique oppotunity?

Dooku smiled smoothly. "That, and much more." Taking a sip - knowing Talzin holds no resentment towards him at this period, yet - he continued calmly, getting straight to business, "The man who ransacked that village was a Sith Lord, known as Darth Sidious." Something flickered in her eyes, and Dooku held back a knowing grin. "After his last pupil's death, I imagine he desired a replacement to continue with his grand scheme."

"Hmm. I had felt Maul's demise years ago," Talzin admitted, and if she felt any shred of sorrow for the death of her son, she didn't show it. "And I am... Familiar with the Sith Lord in question. You have encountered him?"

So, she seemingly wasn't aware that Dooku was responsible for her spawn's death. He can work with that. Even so, the Count wasn't foolish enough to drop his guard; Nightsisters weren't one to be trusted without difficulty. Talzin was an enigma, for all her sorcerer theatrics, and Dooku wasn't to be deceived oh so easily.

"He attempted to persuade with his deceit into joining him," Dooku explained patiently, taking another sip of the goblet. A rather unique taste, but now unwelcomed. "And failed, just as Maul died for failing his wishes. But, upon receiving your message, I knew he would not back down so easily. Partially why I have come to you."

"Oh?"

Pushing the goblet forward slightly, the Count plopped his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers with a contemplative look. "You and I share a common enemy, Talzin. I am gathering many potential allies in ridding us of this disease known as the Sith, as well as the dogmatic Republic they control. I am offering the Nightsisters an opportunity to join us in our scheme to liberate the galaxy of this menace, before we succumb to its sickness."

In another life, Talzin had plotted the downfall of the Sith through Maul. She died for her attempts, whereas the Zabrak escaped. But, with Maul dead and Ventress under his fold, Talzin had little playing cards to use against him. In any case, the Nightsister would prove a more useful asset as opposed to an enemy; with their magicks and abilities, the new Separatist alliance would prove more and more prepared against the machinations of Sidious. The Republic will be overthrown with a lack of war to begin with. Dooku merely needed to play his own cards correctly.

And he felt the Force was in his favour.

Talzin had been quiet for a long moment, before mirroring Dooku's posture with a slight jeering tone, "And why, good Count, should our clan join your little organization? What benefit would we gain aside from the death of that foolish Sith who dares to steal from Dathomir?"

The ex-Jedi smiled lightly. "Consider it returning the debt, after all, did I not help you long ago, when I was a Jedi?" Talzin said nothing, leaning back, which prompted the Count to continue. "With Sidious' demise, the Nightsisters will have no further enemies. The Sith seek to wipe out your clan and your ways in years to come. Trust me on this, Mother Talzin. I give you the chance to help us destroy all our foes and make way for a new order; one of peace and prosperity, which the Nightsisters would be a part of."

Talzin responded, the echoed amusement haunting Dooku's ears. "Your petty game of politics means nothing to us, Count." Before rubbing her own chin. "But your point is... Valid." Pale eyes glanced back at the waiting visitor. "The Nightsisters will convene; we shall consider your offer, that is all I will say for now. Thank you for taking the time to visit us from your busy schedule. I would imagine the life of a Count is far more taxing than that of a Jedi."

Dooku smiled slyly at the slight mocking. "Personally, I'd call it a breath of fresh air. Thank you for your time, Mother Talzin."

* * *

 **AN: Any Shadows of the Empire fans? I'm one of them! That Nintendo 64 game, as well as Dark Forces, Clone Wars for Gamecube and Jedi Outcast, was part of my childhood, and thanks to that I have a soft spot for the criminal organization, Black Sun.**

 **Xizor was an awesome character. Dash Rendar as well.**

 **I would've included the Zann Consortium from Empire at War: Forces of Corruption as a candidate for allies of Dooku, but Tyber Zann would be a kid at this time. Ah well, can't have everything.**

 **Thrawn on the other hand...**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Can't guarantee the next one will be published the following next month, but I hope it'd be worth the wait, just as I hope this one was as well.**

 **Until then my friends!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. If I had, there'd be no ridiculous "Chosen One" prophecy that made Vader's redeeming act less impactful. Enjoy!**

* * *

If the Works were in any way home to anyone save for the prisoner and infestation within, anyone on even the above floors were distinctly hear the bloodcurling screams from the basements levels. Rats scurried away in fright from the roars of pain, extracted from flashes of blue reflecting from the walls and leaking through cracks to where the vermin resided. From within the damp room, the majority of which darkened not just by the lack of light, but the suffocating presence of the Dark Side, a Sith Lord plays around with his pet.

And was getting terribly dissatisfied by the lack of tricks said pet used.

"For...Forgive...M- _ARGH!"_ Another arc of lightning was the response to the pitiful begging, shocking the brute to his core, literally. "I meant... Mean no disre... Master!"

Only for a brief moment, did Sidious relent, glancing down at his toy with little amusement. "A Sith never begs for forgiveness, nor mercy, my young pupil. In time, you will learn as much."

"Y-Yes... My Mast- _AHHH!"_

"Speak only when it is necessary, apprentice."

 _Apprentice._ Sidious spat that last word as though it were venom. This lowly excuse for a being hardly deserved the title alone. But with his options sparse at the moment, he would have to make do. Sidious was nothing if not adaptable. Like the Sith from the Rule of Two before him, he can compromise, with Dooku no longer the suitable placeholder for his plans. The Force had guided him to Dathomir, a few years ago, to find someone at least considering for his designs until he found the most perfect apprentice.

Maul had failed him. And it seems this Zabrak was no better. The name 'Savage' seemed rather ironic concerning this lowly creature.

The yellow brute attempted yet again to speak, to endure the pain as taught since his arrival into the Works. With a sneer at such pathetic display, the Sith Lord allowed another temporary moment of respite, his cold tone echoing through the walls of the empty metallic structure. "Remember, your life, and will belongs to me, until I find you no longer useful for my designs. You swore an oath, and through my guidance, I shall grant you power beyond imagination, to crush all who oppose us... If you _earn_ it."

Breathing heavily, it took strength for Savage to even lift his head up to meet his Master's dispassionate gaze, hissing through clenched smoking teeth. "I... Will prove myself... To you..."

Sidious clicked his tongue. "We shall see." Emphasized by further, unforgiving bolts coursing through the Zabrak's body. Pathetic, the way Savage was worming around on the ground through the pain, Maul had no such issues; even as a child, he endured through the pain with more dignity than this man.

But the Sith supposed it wasn't unexpected; Maul was trained from birth to be a Sith, he had no excuse... Nor any excuse for his death on Naboo. Once again, Dooku proves to be a terrible headache for the true Sith Lord.

With that, the lightning ceased, the Zabrak slowly craning his pained head to observe his Master take a few steps back, voice as icy as the wind. "Pick up your weapon, slave. It is time we continue with your training in Form V's capabilities."

Savage would never prove himself a true Sith Lord, scarcely worthy of the title alone, but at least Sidious can make an amusing instrument out of him.

* * *

Within a rather lit room, light shining through the glass-stained windows to a beautiful yellow sky of Serenno, a blazing light of green swung and hummed, wielded by the Padawan proven worthy of utilizing such a weapon by her Master long ago. An intense look of pure concentration, the Force guiding the young Dathomirian's movements and blade as she whirled and jumped around the training room, keeping Master Narec's wise words in mind in the midst of her practices.

With him preoccupied by Mas- Count Dooku's politics, the Jedi Master had instructed Asajj to continue honing her skills in the meantime, stating these matters were far too delicate for her to handle, unlike the rather blunt methods used back of Rattatak.

Surprisingly, Asajj found herself missing that planet. Despite pushing for violence being unorthodox of a Jedi, the thrill of battle was more exciting and challenging than committing day in and day out in a simple training room, with few partners to spar against. Master Sifo-Dyas had often assisted indulging her needs, and the Padawan was excited to face a new training partner. Fun as her Master was, a change wasn't always unwelcomed now and again.

She couldn't imagine the Count accepting nor offering a duel. And Asajj didn't want to even consider twice that crazy darksider in the medbay, still recovering from her influences by the cult Bando Gora, although she did have the Padawan's sympathies for it-

"Your footing lacks focus."

The sudden sharp tongue had the Dathomirian stumble, pausing from her training to spot with wide eyes at the Count standing by the doorway. Tall, impassive with folded arms, the former Jedi regarded the Dathomirian with a stern raised brow, and Asajj felt herself flustered by the clear judging glare. She was too focused on her thoughts that she didn't sense him coming in! Her Master would've reprimand her right now.

The Count, however, decided to do the job for her absent teacher, albeit more abrasively. "Your concentration on your own movements is appalling. Your legs need to be wider apart with Ataru. The mixture with Djem So is sloppy, and unrefined. The markings of a brute who fails to value the beauty in skill."

Asajj felt herself flinch, knowing the Count well enough by now to know he was disappointed by the display. Her Master explained that, as a Jedi, Dooku was a if not _the_ master of lightsaber combat; perfecting every style and technique there was to offer, and was fearless in reprimanding others for showing a terrible display of their practices, including Younglings. This was the first time the Count had witnessed her own training with the saber, and it was a clear poor impression.

"Come." Huh? The Padawan cautious glanced back up after staring at the floor by the lecture, following the Count's movement to the other side of the ring, and widening her arms at the detached cape falling to the ground. The former Jedi smirked at the surprised look, unclipping his own curved hilt from his belt and, without even activating it, motioned to the Dathomirian. "Your Master taught you only how to expect the obvious. I will rectify that."

He was true to his word. The following hour contained if not beating on Asajj's behalf; utilization of Ataru, Djem So and Niman proving no effort against the elegant swordplay by the esteemed Count. Asajj found herself frustrated by the lack of effective Form V was suppose to be having against II, inciting Dooku to bark at her that focusing on one primary weakness alone with have you underestimate the opponent a great deal, and will cost you. To emphasize that point, Dooku showed no mercy with their spars. He was relentless!

And yet, Asajj found the experience rather enjoyable. While she was losing, she was learning. Master Narec often preached that making a mistake isn't something to find shameful, but used to keep you on your feet and learn new things from it. And that's what Master Dooku was doing, she eventually realized mid-swing, locking her green blade with his red own, he was correcting her errors with a silver tongue and aggressive swordplay.

It was all a lesson.

After a short distance from each other, recovering when using that opportunity, Asajj panted quite heavily, the Count working her to the bone. She would gave in to the taunting gesture of the impassive man's blade, had a cough not broken through their midst of her concentration, inciting both competitors to look over to the Jedi Master observing the events with a steely expression.

"I think that will be quite enough for today." Dooku commented casually as Asajj bowed to her Master, deactivating her blade like the Count. Hearing movement, the Padawan looked back from Master Narec to the Count who approached her. He expressed the results of the training smoothly, "You have exceptional skill child. In time, you will become a great... Jedi, like your Master before you."

There was something off about the way he said 'Jedi.' Regardless, Asajj smiled at the praise, bowing her head humbly, for to be complimented by Count Dooku, with the way her Master had described him and how ruthless he was just then, must be a high honour one should take with the utmost of modesty. "Thank you, Master- Count Dooku." To her relief, he only expressed a small smile at the slip-up, looking merely amused. "I am honoured to have sparred with a legend of a lightsaber duelist."

"Pride is unbecoming of you, and shouldn't be encouraged, Padawan." Master Narec made no hesitation to correct his student, but nodded upon approach to the two. "But the Count is correct, you did well to have survived his wrath thus far. Go get some rest, Asajj, we shall resume with meditation back in our quarters. I must speak with the Count here first."

The Padawan nodded, bowing once again to both teachers respectfully, and made to depart. Suddenly, things were looking up. Maybe the Count who uses the Dark Side wasn't so bad after all... Rather him than that Vosa woman.

* * *

Ky waited until his Padawan was out of sight, before addressing the Count with precise bluntness. "You shoudln't fuel her pride like that."

Dooku scoffed, baritone voice echoing questioning amusement. "And I here I thought you weren't so quick to judge yourself, Master Narec. I merely gave her the encouragement to improve herself." Brown eyes met against pale green. "I would've thought trust would have finally been expressed between us. Am I mistaken?"

The Jedi frowned heavily. "That is something you have yet to earn completely, Count. I trust in your intentions to rid of this Sith disease plaguing the Republic, but what you intend for afterwards remains to be seen. I agreed to work with you against Sidious for the name of the Republic, the Jedi and the galaxy at large. But, with the Dark Side strong in _you_ Count, you must excuse me for remaining cautious around you still." Arms folded sternly. "Especially when you're alone with my own pupil."

Because, when observing their duel, albeit very impressive to witness, Ky detected something from the old man he wasn't certain he liked; a trace of fondness and guilt before coated by the shadows. There was some kind of connection between Asajj and Dooku which Ky could not decipher. For now, he will keep that knowledge to himself - perhaps share it with Sifo-Dyas if needs must - until the timing is right.

Dooku inclined his head, yet nodded regardless. "Yes, the Jedi have always been trained to reject the darkness, not understand it." Ky opened his mouth to rebuttal the criticizing tone, but the ex-Jedi cut him off, "But I understand your concerns, Master Jedi, in different positions I would have expressed the same feelings. Rest assured, I hold no ill intentions towards your Padawan, but to combat against a Sith Lord, we must allow no room for leniency."

"I believe Asajj is doing well enough already without the Order's former greatest swordmaster instilling his abrasive policies onto her."

Dooku raised a brow, but hardly looked offended, Over the years of cooperating together, Ky wondered if the man could ever feel affronted about anything. "Sometimes, being firm is what is needed for effective results, Master Narec."

Ky sighed, relenting slightly. "I don't disagree, Count." Before pale greens locked onto the doorway his apprentice had just departed from. "I fear for my pupil, believe it or not. Raising and training her on warring world like Rattatak has tested her patience and discipline. Sometimes, I wonder if attempting to make her a Jedi was an overall sound idea or not..."

He didn't even know why he was telling a darksider any of this. But the Force willed him to confide in this man, as if assuring him that the former Jedi could actually help his student as oppose to potentially do more harm than good. Ky wasn't afraid to admit he was deeply concerned for his student, the Jedi doctrine regarding such emotions relevant or not. Teaching her all those years has developed an attachment between the two the Jedi would frown upon; For Ky, he saw Asajj as more as a pupil.

But a daughter as well.

And, as if Dooku had picked up on the emotions, the Count responded knowingly, "Are you proud of your pupil, Master Narec?"

In a heartbeat, Ky answered, "Undoubtedly."

And the Count smiled. "Then I see no issue. We are not perfect beings, our expectations are often too high for us to fulfill. But you have trained Asajj to be a protector of the peace in contrast to the warriors of Rattatak who destroyed the peace." That said, the elder man clasped a hand on Ky's shoulder, prompting Ky to turn to the smirking Sith knowingly. "She will become a worthy Jedi."

It almost sounded like a vow, and Ky was uncertain whether or not to accept the compliment from a darksider of all people. But, having gotten acquainted with Dooku for a couple of years, he recognized sincerity from the Count when he saw it.

That said, Ky only nodded. "Yes, she will be."

* * *

"And that will teach you not to mess with Jedi affairs, scum."

The lowly bounty hunter made no response, nor movement. Nor will he be doing any of the sort for a while; head limp with a leaned back posture after the Jedi Master who bested him was finished dealing with his worthless existence. Dusting off his fours limbs in satisfaction, the Jedi idly glanced to both sides of the alleyway, hearing out for noises of anyone who heard the scuffle and decided to investigate.

No one. Good, there weren't any needed complications.

His business here concluded, Jedi Master Pong Krell departed from the black alleyway and into the night streets of the town, leaving that scum to rot for all he cared. The Council will thank him for the interrogation later. The bulk Besalisk had no time for peaceful compromises this time; the missions was of utmost importance, and time was short. The streets were rather still tonight, which meant far less traffic and distractions for the Jedi.

If the Republic's misgivings were correct, the could be no afforded leniency. Anaxes, a Core World and one of the founding fathers of the Galactic Republic, was recently rumoured to have begun trailing towards secession. If that was the case, then the Jedi must act swiftly to stop one of the Republic's founding worlds from making that foolhardy decision. The Council dispatched Krell merely to investigate these rumours and report back once they were proven authentic or not.

But Krell knew better. Action spoke louder than words, and this Jedi was no stranger to the former. If only inspecting the government and all the seedy under dealings beneath the rather prideful atmosphere of Anaxes was the intention, that would only give them more time to consider leaving the Republic all the more.

That couldn't be allowed to happen.

Thankfully, the Jedi Council made the wise decision sending Krell here. The wisest they've ever said, he dared to think. He could put those in charge of this system in their place; remind them of their importance to the Republic, and display the consequences for deciding otherwise. Anaxes was vital and essential for holding the prime navy fleet, although not nearly as much as it use to be for a thousand years of peace, in contrast to wars of long past. Without their supplies, the Republic would be more defenseless than ever. And, with the looming darkness Krell and his brethren have felt for years now, they needed all the help they can get.

Whether the government of this world was willing to agree or not.

Now, thanks to that previous alone time with the scum resting in the alleyway, Krell had a lead to some political bribery. Even those loyal to the Republic weren't above such petty motivations. It made the Besalisk sick. With the directions his 'friend' generously provided, the Jedi Master was on his way to an upcoming business deal which would be one step to lead him towards the entire ring of criminal contacts Anaxes' government was having dealings with.

At least, he would've, if Krell wasn't yet given another distraction. A staff of two green blades sprung to life in rapid succession, batting off the incoming blasters bolts with a flawless spin. His would-be assassin had stopped firing in turn, yet Krell could not view him in the dark night, the street lights being of no help to him.

The Besalisk snarled. "Show yourself!" His mighty voice boomed, body warily turning with one saberstaff at the ready, the other still on his belt. If it was a mere assassin, he needn't bother igniting his other blades. The lightsaber spun menacingly, sending a message that whoever this fool was, he picked the worst fight with a Jedi he could imagine.

But that didn't stop the fool from trying again, striking from the dark. Krell's senses, along with the incoming sensation of heat, had the Besalisk quickly roll out of the way from the inferno, landing on one knee and glaring upwards to the shadowy assassin having fired off that flamethrower, attempting to retreat.

"Oh no you don't!" With the Force at his command, the Besalisk pulled forward with one of his free four hands, and the attacker was hurled in his direction. Krell's triumphant grin was interrupted once the large, bulky assassin got too close and delivered a swift metallic headbutt against the Besalisk, causing Krell to cry out in surprised pain and stumbling backwards. In retaliation, a swift spin which destroyed the two blasters held in his attacker's arm.

And a lightsaber through the armoured stomach, and the Jedi got a good look at his attacker face-to-face.

The man was tall, even larger than the Besalisk who opposed him. Coated in silver armour with purple markings by the chest and torso trailing downwards, and a helmet which would incite fear in weaklings. Krell had to respect the intimidating display; a shame it hardly saved this fool from daring to strike against a Jedi. His better.

Wait... Why hasn't his opponent fallen-?

The Besalisk was then greeted by a flurry of swift gloved punches from his should-be-dead foe, relentlessly pushed back and eventually forced to retreat for a brief moment. And Krell watched with unmasked surprise at the still-activated blade being plunged out of the attacker by his own grip, the armoured man inspecting the saberstaff for a moment before wielding it over his shoulder, and, like a lance, hurled towards the Besalisk with impressive aim.

Although Krell caught it with ease. His eyes stayed on the hole made by his saber for a brief moment, before grinning sadistically at the assassin. "No matter. I can cut you into a million pieces if need be." The assassin - which he assumed was a bounty hunter by this point - made no response, simply making a body gesture that told Krell to bring it. "So be it!" With the activation of his second saberstaff, blades of green and blue slicing the air, Krell let out a war cry and charged, intending to finish this and proceed with his business quickly.

The opponent came prepared, however. Blue and green lightsabers found themselves opposed by small custom red deflector shield on the armoured foe's wrists, proceeding to block against the relentless barrage of saber assaults. Krell simply grunted, deeming this stalling an inconvenience at best. It was only a matter of time - his foe's defenses were well-prepared, but poor against the might of a Jedi Master - before a whirl caught the opponent off-guard, a saber slicing through the shield and promptly cut off one of the man's armoured arms.

And revealing the purple and pink tentacles and skin bubbling beneath.

 _A Gen'Dai._ Krell thought in epiphany, pushing the foe back with a swift kick to the chest. The regenerative man examined his sliced limb with seeming indifference, but Krell felt the flicker of annoyance from his foe. The species were legendary by their stubbornness over their refusal to die; lacking any bones and having an absurd regenerative structure, the Gen'Dai could heal from any inflicted wound without fail. But the process takes time, depending on the injuries in question.

No matter. Krell would simply have to slice this man apart until there was nothing left. Then he could continue on with business as usual-

Suddenly, he found his oxygen cut off by something slimy and reaching, grabbing his neck from behind before followed by his saber arms, locking them in and forcing the gasping Besalisk to drop his weapons. Krell, attempting to pull off the tentacles keeping his other arms and neck at bay, realized with ill-disguised horror at the source of the sneak attack.

The other arm he cut off earlier! He had forgotten about it, and his foe used that to his advantage!

The Gen'Dai simply stared at him, but the choking Krell sensed the smugness radiate off him, imagining the smirk on the foe's hideous face. Baring his teeth angrily, Krell will not be defeated in this humiliating manner. The Besalisk reached down to grab his fallen sabers with his free hands-

Before a chained sticks with spikes attached smashed into his forehead quicker than he could react, and all went black.

* * *

On another Core World, a Besalisk was serving some favourite customers of his their meals. In contrast to the brutish Jedi, Dexter was far more open and friendly, telling his diners to enjoy their food before resuming his duties in the kitchen. Qui-Gon smiled politely at his old friend, before his solemn gaze returned fixed on Anakin. The boy had yet to speak since the report to the Council, only regarding his food in silent indifference.

But even a non-Jedi could pick up on the torrent of emotions swirling through the boy's soul. That attack the other night has affected his Padawan more than he realized. Qui-Gon waited, and waited, for the boy to do or say anything from his side of the table, with little results. When nothing was responded, the Jedi Master sighed, finally choosing to begin first.

"I hope you aren't intending to leave this food to waste. Dexter made some of the best food in the galaxy." Anakin said nothing, but there was a reaction. The young Padawan slowly lifted a utensil and began consumption of his own meal, keeping quiet still. Qui-Gon raised a soft brow, but nodded. It was a start.

The report to the Council was less than desired, but still very enlightening. Somehow, the man who attempted to assassinate the Supreme Chancellor learnt about the Jedi investigating him in the underworld, and attempted to kill them as well. Qui-Gon was rather disappointed they couldn't apprehend the assassin, but moreso relieved that Anakin wasn't hurt during the entire chase, only wounded with his pride.

A trait of his Qui-Gon often lectured the boy about, and tried to soothe that emotion unbecoming of a Jedi.

The most notable thing about this mission, however, was the fact that Sifo-Dyas had yet to turn up at all at the temple since the attack. The Council had only recieved a message from an unknown contact over Qui-Gon and Anakin's pursuit towards the assassin during then, but nothing else. Which confirmed that whatever the Jedi Master was up to, he didn't want the Council to learn of it.

Unfortunately, Sifo-Dyas disappeared along with their other target shortly after, which did nothing to quail the guilt bubbling through his Padawan's emotions. Qui-Gon stared down at his pupil patiently, bu the boy tried not to pay attention to the waiting gaze, grimacing but eating his meal regardless.

"Anakin, look at me." It was a stern command, but not any less affectionate. The Padawan flinched, recognizing the tone, and hesitantly but obediently raising his head to meet the softened gaze. Leaning forward against the table, Qui-Gon continued, trying to make his point clear, "What happened last night wasn't your fault. You tried your best to apprehend the assailant, I'm more happy you're okay than anything."

At that, Anakin stared down at his food again, keeping silent.

Qui-Gon sighed again, this time choosing to lean back against his seat, folding his arms whilst straightening himself. "No one but yourself blames you, Anakin. If anything, I am as equally to blame if not more for failing to help you in time."

That got a more reactive response. The Padawan's head snapped up in shock and protest. "Master, it isn't your fault! I couldn't catch the assassin, and he got away with my lightsaber! If I had been quicker, better-!"

Qui-Gon raised a hand, the vocal objections raising heads their way, and the pupil instantly quieted at the gesture. Through their bond, the Master sent soothing waves towards his pupil, and that managed to have at least some effect in preventing any further yells of guilt. "How often have I preached to you that no one is perfection incarnate, Padawan? That even the Jedi aren't beyond triumphant all the time?" Anakin said nothing, prompting the teacher to continue knowingly, "I appreciate how highly you view me, so let me express in turn how proud and happy I am to have always been your teacher. And what occurred last night will not change that. Nothing will."

"It should've..." Anakin mumbled reluctantly, loud enough for Qui-Gon to hear.

The Jedi Master only smiled lightly. "As always, you assume the worst of things." The statement was anything but scolding. Without any hesitation, no room for shame, the Master reached out and fondly ruffled the Padawan's blonde hair, which was beginning to show streaks of brown, and not even Anakin couldn't let out a tiny smile at the proof to his mentor's words. "We will apprehend out attacker and retrieve your lightsaber back. If not... Well, Ilum exists for a reason."

Anakin looked complete mollified in contrast to Qui-Gon's shrug. "But I don't want a new one Master! That was my first lightsaber! A lightsaber is a Jedi's life, you said so yourself."

"I say a lot of things Padawan."

"Master!"

"Now continue eating your meal. Dexter would appreciate the enjoyment out of it."

Anakin pouted as his Master proceeded to dine on his own delicious food without any further room for argument, but internally the man found the reaction endearing, silently pleased with the results as Anakin's spirits were lifted somewhat, the apprentice now consuming his own meal more light-heartedly now.

All was well. At least, for a brief moment of content.

Before a familiar presence walked through the doorway which incited Qui-Gon to swerve his head around, two oblivious presences entering Dexter's Diner. One examined the place with open curiosity, motioned to the interior. "I must say, your descriptions of the place is quite accurate my friend. I hope the food is as good in turn as you have also claimed."

"Rest assured, Chancellor, I have yet to disappoint you. Why start now?"

"Is that Master Kenobi... With Chancellor Palpatine?" Anakin whispered in awe. Qui-Gon only nodded, mixed feelings of the two men entering the diner with pleasant expressions and ringing curious alarm bells in his mind.

"Stay right there Anakin." The Padawan only nodded, still observing the two in wonder. Standing up, Qui-Gon made his way over to the two, who have yet to have noticed his presence, still conversing to each other.

"Tell me, does this establishment serve Corellian Wine?"

"Regrettably not, Chancellor, and I wouldn't recommend asking the owner to try and make some."

Qui-Gon cleared his throat, swallowing that feeling of wrongness at the two spekaing like casual friends and less of a professional relationship. "Obi-Wan. Chancellor." And promptly bowed formally once the politician turned to him in pleasant surprise, whereas Obi-Wan stiffened, as though having not noticed Qui-Gon was here. Had he not sensed him?

"Master Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan nodded formally, but his eyes remained only on her former Master for but a brief few seconds, looking at anywhere else but him.

"Master Jinn!" Palpatine greeted brightly with widened arms. "A pleasure to see one of the saviours of my world once again. Master Kenobi just mentioned how you and he use to dine here occasionally as master and student. And here you are!" Qui-Gon only nodded, and the politician's attention then looked over the man's broad shoulder. "And why, am I to assume that young Padawan over there is the famous young Skywalker I've been hearing much of?"

A pang of unpleasant emotion at the very idea of him knowing about Anakin sprung through Qui-Gon, but he repressed the reaction down, only nodding stiffly and shifting himself to cover Palpatine's open view of his pupil. "You've been well, Chancellor, since the attack?"

Palpatine waved off the question, motioning to a few red-armoured guards standing outside the diner professionally. "Yes yes fine enough. You must forgive me Master Jedi, but so many have expressed as much similar concerns I begin to grow weary of it. It took a lot of persuasion on my personal guard to convince them to allow me accompany Obi-Wan to this preferred diner he has mentioned so fondly of." Said Jedi Knight was still refusing to meet Qui-Gon's knowing gaze.

The Master folded his arms through his robe's sleeves, taking note that Palpatine addressed his previous student on a first-name basis. "I suspect then that Obi-Wan here has also told you of Anakin?" Obi-Wan ignored the side-glance.

Palpatine nodded merrily, oblivious to the silent observations. "Indeed. Oh, and speaking of which, it is a pleasure to meet you young Skywalker." Qui-Gon snapped his head down at the young Padawan standing beside him, looking up at the Supreme Chancellor in ill-concealed awe. "I have heard much of your exploits."

"You have?" Before common sense returned to him, and the Padawan bowed humbly, reciting what was taught to him back at the temple. "It's an honour to meet you, Chancellor. I'm sorry that we have yet to capture your would-be assassin as of yet."

Before Qui-Gon could reprimand the boy for that, Palpatine chuckled warmly, waving off the apology. "Unnecessary, my boy. I am grateful enough for the Jedi's ambition to apprehend my assailant." He grinned down at the smiling teen. "In any case, I am indebted already to the role you played on my homeworld years ago. You are a brave, young man."

Anakin grinned at the praise, and Qui-Gon cleared his throat before the politician could mess with Anakin's pride any further. "I hope your visit from your bsy schedule to here will be worth the trip, Chancellor. My former Padawan was right in taking you here." Even to himself, the words sounded forced and ill-disguised.

"We should all eat together!" Anakin then announced, looking between the three adults expectantly. "We can tell you about how Master Qui-Gon and I almost captured the assassin last night."

Immediately, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan interjected to that idea, for for different reasons, the former pained to suspect.

"I'm certain the Chancellor would rather eat with Master Kenobi alone-"

"You seem to already have your own meals on the table-"

"A splendid idea child!" Palpatine's overly enthusiasm broke through their protests, following after the beaming young boy. "I do love a good story from time to time. Come Obi-Wan, we shall dine with your fellow Jedi."

Reluctantly, both adult Jedi trailed after them, exchanging only a silent agreement that this was too awkward and exhausting for either of them. And Qui-Gon, justifiably wary of Palpatine's intent, wasn't entirely eager for any excuse towards further interaction between the Chancellor and Anakin.

At the very least, Qui-Gon had some inward amusement out of Dex greeting them later and introducing the stunned Chancellor to his infamous welcoming embrace.

* * *

In the Coruscant underworld, other meetings were afoot.

"The Jedi is dead, my Lord, as you have instructed."

The fight beneath the hood nodded, the holographic call only revealing a pointy beard. "You have done well Durge. Your credits will be deposited immediately. But don't believe yourself out of my interests just yet; there is still much I have planned for you."

The Gen'Dai chuckled, the metallic helmet making it sound raspy and more sinister than needed. The call to the man paying him was held within a private booth, in a seedy cantina reserved typically for the greatest of scum and villainy. No would dare approach Durge's booth without good reason.

"May I knew when precisely you require my services once again?"

"You will know."

And with that, the transmission was concluded, leaving the Gen'Dai only with his silent table and untouched drink. Durge only leaned back for a moment, smiling behind the menacing helmet. Hey, whatever involves him killing high targets like Jedi, he wasn't complaining. The infamous bounty hunter couldn't help but feel that whatever this 'Lord Tyranus' character had planned for him, it will be life-changing.

Removing his helmet, the Gen'Dai gulped down his drink in triumph, toasting to himself a job well done and deserved.

Meanwhile, opposite of the cantina within his own private booth, another hunter was enjoying himself, though with a female Theelin and Zeltrax sat on his laps, caressing his muscular features whilst he stoically sipped his strong beverage. It was only for a moment before a voice from behind the booth interrupted his pleasure.

The bartender, a Rodian, spoke in his native tongue, "Pardon me, sir, you have a private transmission. Your eyes only."

Rolling his eyes, the tall bounty hunter nodded, sending off two disappointed lap dancers before swiftly reaching, grabbing the Rodian by the collar and saying with rough softness, "Interrupt my private time like that, then it won't just be criminals this Mandolorian hunts." Gulping, the Rodian nodded obediently, hurrying back to his work station after being released.

Indifferently, the hunter activated the holo-transmission on the table, and raised an unimpressed brow at the cloaked figure, features completely obscure. It was only when he spoke when the man felt a shiver down his spine.

"Montross." The figure greeted coldly, voice as raspy as a drunken Neimoidian. "I have a proposition for you..."

* * *

 **AN: Also kicking off this month with a new ViL chapter! Hope you enjoyed it! And again, any recommendations you have for the next chapter that you want to see/would fit in with the story well, do let me know! Merry Christmas my friends!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. If I had, we would've witnessed Plagueis' demise in The Phantom Menace. Enjoy!**

* * *

The serene atmosphere among the temple gardens was a contrast to the current mood of a particular Padawan. Whereas other Jedi would meditate or pause to admire the beautiful flora planted and treated with care, Anakin had no really appreciation of plant life. Water was an entirely different story, but trees and flowers? They begin to blend.

Instead, the young Jedi sat upon one of the many benches outside the temple, glaring at the marble floor as if it were responsible for his current sour mood. Qui-Gon was busy with a meeting with other Masters, leaving Anakin all on his own. The Padawan yearned for some more training or a new mission assigned to them some time soon; anything to get rid of his bad mood at the present. He sincerely doubted his Master's methods of meditation would help matters.

In his defense, it was neither Anakin nor Qui-Gon's fault for the former's current irritation. No, that position belonged to a clearly jealous Jedi Knight who made things purposely awkward at Dex's Diner. Obi-Wan. Anakin scowled at the mere thought of that man. It was all his fault. That would've been a nice meal together if the Knight hadn't acted like a jerk around Qui-Gon just because he was no longer his Master. The two older Jedi spent the majority of their time there avoiding each other's gaze and making shot, tight-lipped comments when addressing one another. It was infuriating.

And to make things worse, it made the _Supreme Chancellor_ feel awkward by the unwanted tension.

As he said, _infuriating._

His fingers clenched the edges beneath the bench. Who was Obi-Wan to decide making things purposely tense was okay? The Knight was clearly just jealous. Despite all the positive things and stories his Master has shared about his previous student, Obi-Wan wasn't the star pupil Qui-Gon made him out to be. The Knight had no genuine care as to how much Qui-Gon regarded him, and Anakin couldn't stand it. He had no right to disrespect Qui-Gon's legacy like this! The Master deserved far better than that ungrateful bantha poodoo!

Obi-Wan was just being a jerk for literally no reason. Far from being the so-called 'Perfect Jedi' as he was so dubbed by the Temple. Just a spoilt brat. Anakin will show him; he'll be the real Jedi Knight that Qui-Gon's former pupil failed to be. After all, Anakin was being taught by the greatest Jedi teacher who ever lived, one who listened and advised him like a father, a role model. He felt sorry for whatever future apprentice Obi-Wan decides to pick.

After he gets his lightsaber out of his-

"Darkening thoughts, you are thinking, hmm?"

Gah!

Anakin released a yelp, so immersed in his own frustrated thoughts to sense the coming presence of the Order's Grand Master. "Master Yoda!" The little green Jedi Master smiled at Anakin's surprised response, hobbling over to join the young Padawan on the bench. "I didn't see you there!"

"No wonder, that is." Yoda chided gently, and Anakin's cheeks flamed. "Troubled, you are. Much conflict in you, I sense. Palpable, even to the Younglings it is." His small walking stick gestured over to a group of children by the large fountain, staring curiously and in awe over to the two.

Who could blame them? The Grand Master of the Jedi and the acclaimed Chosen One together?

"Pride. Known to you that is, but to a pupil of Qui-Gon's, a long time has that been." Again, there was the embarrassment Anakin felt from the small Jedi picking up on his thoughts with relative ease. Yoda hopped onto the bench beside the nervous Padawan, poking him in the ribs slightly with that damn cane of his. "See what Master Qui-Gon means now, I do, in requiring instructions still, in regards to your mental shields."

"I'm trying my best..." Even to Anakin, that sound like a terribly weak excuse.

Yoda seemed to agree. "Try? Try, there is not. If try alone, fail you will. Conviction, you must embrace. But without pride, you must not feel." Anakin said nothing, staring down at his twitching clasped hands. "Pride. A powerful sensation. But dangerous, it is, when felt for too long. Long has it been, since such intensity of pride has been felt in one of Qui-Gon's pupils."

Anakin frowned, finally facing the green Master. Pupils? As in plural? "Qui-Gon had more than one Padawan before me?"

Yoda looked elsewhere, ancient eyes reflecting recollection. And the Padawan winced, slightly relieved the Master was too distracted by his thoughts to lecture Anakin for calling his teacher by his first name. "Yes... Before young Obi-Wan, a first Padawan, Qui-Gon had. A talented pupil, he was. But pride, creating resentment, festered in his heart; turned him against the Jedi, it did." Anakin leaned forward, more than eager to hear more. A Jedi who turned against the Order? Was he a Sith like that Zabrak was? Who was he? "Now tell me, you will, what plagues your troubled thoughts, hm?"

Drat. He almost got away with it.

At Yoda's mirthful expression, Anakin pouted somewhat and leaned back, reclining against his seat with a half-heated shrug. "I'm just worried about Qui-... My Master, Master Yoda. He and Master Obi-Wan had a falling out. And he's blaming himself for it."

"And believe he's wrong, you do."

The words exploded from the teen's mouth. "Of course I do!" Before realizing his error and paling, calming himself down slightly. Yoda, however, didn't look condescending, but patient. And the young frustrated Jedi continued, "It's not his fault Master Obi-Wan's being a jealous jerk. Just because he has a new Padawan. And it's not my fault either!"

The Grand Master simply smiled, eyes urging the Padawan to continue. And Anakin proceeded, relieved that someone was willing to listen. "I'm just trying to be the Jedi that Master Qui-Gon wants me to be, but Obi-Wan keeps ruining everything! He's just mad because he was given the trials early and became a Knight, but that's not my fault. Qui-Gon thought he was ready... And I don't want to say he's wrong, but..."

"'But...?'" Yoda pressed kindly, leaning forward somewhat.

Anakin bowed his head, slightly ashamed for saying this, "Maybe Master made a mistake after all. Obi-Wan hasn't been acting like the flawless Jedi everyone's making him out to be. He's blaming Qui-Gon for no reason whatsoever. And it's... I don't know... Infuriating."

To a Jedi, expressing such an emotion would be considered blasphemous. But Yoda hardly looked judging, simply gazing at Anakin rather thoughtfully. And though the teenager sensed no scolding incoming, he knew a lecturing look when he saw one. "So distraught, are you, from Master Obi-Wan, hmm? Afraid you are, that ruin your apprenticeship, he will. Upset that Qui-Gon is upset, and feel guilty, you do."

"I..." Though he wanted to deny it, Anakin couldn't fight back the truth of Yoda's words vibrating through the Force.

The little Master leaned back, humming with thought by closing his eyes. "Guilt, you should not feel. Happy, Qui-Gon is, to being your mentor. Told me this, he has. And pride you must not feel!" He added rather sharply, obviously picking up on Anakin's enthusiastic joy over his Master's praise to Yoda of all people! "In conflict, Master Obi-Wan is. Sense it, I do. No right has he to disrupt your training. But intentional, it is not. Judge so quickly, unbecoming of a Jedi. Release those emotions, you must, and witness from another perspective, you should."

"But-!"

"Buts, there is not." Yoda opened his eyes, taking mirth in Anakin's flabbergasted expression. "Tell you the same, Qui-Gon would." Anakin winced at the accuracy. Qui-Gon _would_ tell him to meditate and start viewing things another way. "Contemplating this, trouble it brings. Doubt and jealously, the seeds of resentment they are. Meditation, key that is. Blame no one should you."

Anakin hesitated. "Master, what about Qui- Master Qui-Gon? I'm still worried about him."

"Do the same, your Master would. And will." Yoda had a knowing twinkle in his old warm eyes. "A Master of meditating, Qui-Gon is. Give me a run for my money, he would." Anakin couldn't help it, he chuckled along with the Grand Master. "Speak with young Obi-Wan, I will. Judgement he does not need, young Skywalker. Empathy, required, that is."

Empathy? After everything he's-?

Anakin bowed his head quickly at Yoda's stern look, mumbling quietly, "Yes Master Yoda..."

Satisfied for now, the little Jedi Master nodded, and opened his mouth-

Before a rumbling sensation emerged from the ground, Anakin clutching onto the bench for support at the sudden unexpected vibrations. The Force trembled in concern, Younglings screaming in surprise and fear at the small earthquake shaking the Temple at present. Once it passed, Anakin opened his eyes slowly, wondering just what in the name of Jabba happened right then.

The Force continued reverberating in worry. Were they under attack-?

Yoda was already on his feet, ancient eyes staring upwards in firm resolve, an expression Anakin had never witnessed on the Grand Master's face until now. "Investigate, we should."

He had a bad feeling about this...

* * *

Alarms blared through the temple halls. Masters, Knights and Padawans alike scurried in an organized hurry to either retreat to their quarters or locate the course of this threat which has violated the sacred temple grounds. And passing by the older Jedi barely passing her a glance, a young Initiate chastised herself for choosing to study in the Archives at such poor timing, hurrying to place the data disks she used for her research back to their proper places in the shelves.

Unorthodox when there's an intruder within the temple, but the young Mirialan felt unclean just leaving them discarded that way.

"Young one!" The Initiate jumped at the elderly voice approaching her, clumsily dropping some disks in the process. Madame Jocasta Nu reached the hasty child, sharp eyes stern in contrast to a small smile in recognition. "Young Bariss. The temple is under high alert, you must return to your clan posthaste."

Bariss nodded, reaching down to pick up the rest of the data. Then a delicate hand stopped her by the wrist.

"I will put them back to their proper places. Though I appreciation your respect," The Jedi Archivist said with sincere warmth, guiding the flustered Bariss to stand with her. "Hurry now, I'm sure a fellow Knight will escort you back if you ask."

The Mirialan nodded, too respectful to argue. And why would she? Madame Nu was probably the most kind-hearted Jedi Master Bariss had encountered yet. "Yes Master." She mustered up as much respect someone her age could, gave the rest of the data to the Archivist and continued as instructed, passing by the Jedi Master down the narrow corridors of shelves. Her clan instructor will no doubt be concerned for Bariss' whereabouts.

And thinking about quickened the Mirialan's stride, keeping at a steady pace also within the Archives. The last thing she wanted was to encounter the temple's intruder. Bariss knew this was no simple drill-

Turning a corner made her almost bump into a fellow Jedi.

Immediately, Bariss bowed in embarrassment. "My- My apologies, Master." Her voice squeaked somewhat, and she winced at how pathetic it sounded. Cautiously glancing back up, her eyes widened at the impressive structure of the tall, built man wrapped in Jedi robes, hood obscuring his features, but with her connection in the Force, Bariss almost flinched at the irritation pouring off this person.

The hooded Jedi cocked his head behind him, tone marking impatience, "Hurry along, little one. Everyone's lookin' for the intruder." The voice itself was gruff, and leaving no room for argument. Bariss nodded, more than eager to prevent from invoking the wrath of this angry Jedi, bowing again and hurrying past him-

Wait...

Jedi don't use anger...

And through her connection, Bariss never sensed a powerful Force presence from the powerful-looking man.

Alarmed, the Mirialan immediately whirled and stopped the man from progressing to his destination through her words. "You're- You're the intruder!" Eyes widened in fear upon the bohemian turning around to face her, and Bariss quickly backed up, doing the next logical thing. "Madame Jocas-!"

Pain burst in the side of her head, the young Initiate having no quick reaction time from the barrel of a blaster impacting into her. The Mirialan fell to the floor, clutching her pained head in small agony and struggling to stare upwards, a sneer present from the rest of the man's shadowed features.

Madame Nu's voice rung out in concern, "Young Bariss? Was that you? Good grief-!"

 _"No!"_ Bariss screamed at the ring of blue fired at the older Jedi, knocking her flat on the floor. Her own voice sounded hoarse, tears beginning to pour down her eyes at the pain and the Archivist's untimely dead. Jedi weren't meant to feel grief, but this wasn't something young Bariss couldn't control. And it _hurt._

"So says the legendary reflexes of a Jedi..." Her assailant muttered, and from the sounding of cocking blaster, Bariss strained to look up through tearful eyes at the point of a weapon aimed at her head. "Rest now, little Jedi." Bariss clenched her eyes, preparing for the end, mentally attempting to repeat a drilled mantra for something as awful as this.

 _There is no death, only the Force._

 _There is no death, only the Force-_

"Stay back from her, assailant!"

And Bariss felt herself being roughly pulled upwards, and into the strong grip of an intruder holding her hostage. "Stand back Jedi, or this kid will never live to become a Padawan."

* * *

Luminara narrowed her eyes at the ruffian holding the young Initiate hostage, recognizing the latter to be of Mirialan origin, just like her. An emerald blade ignited, the Master raised her blade defensively, glancing warily between the smug intruder and frightened Initiate. Her senses informed her that the fallen Madame Nu was simply unconscious, thankfully.

"More Jedi are on their way," She replied calmly, tip of the lightsaber aiming in the robed figure's direction. "You have nowhere to run. Surrender."

She could make out the sneer in the cloaked man's face, pressing the weapon further to the young child's temple. "I've got a better idea, Jedi scum. Why don't you access the vaults for me, and maybe I'll let this little Mirialan live to see another day."

The idea itself was blasphemous. Luminara frowned heavily, keeping a steady stance in case he'll strike. "You are in no position to make deals, intruder."

"Oh, I think I am." The figure grinned. "See, I'm the one holding this here kid in my grip. And I know you Jedi would never let someone else get hurt, not if you can help it. You always were too soft to get the job done proper." The young Initiate whimpered, prompting the man's smirk beneath the hood. "So, if either of you want to survive this day, you'll do as I say. Trust me you'd be making the right choice here."

"Trust me, you won't be getting away this day, nor will you have access to the vaults." The Jedi Master said evenly. "The youngling will not be harmed by the likes of you. Release her, and it'll make things easier."

The figure paused, then sighed, almost regretfully. "Ah well. Trust you Jedi to be so thick-headed." The blaster in his hand cocked. "Say goodbye, kid. Looks like your Jedi Masters have failed you." Luminara raised one free hand, swiftly attempting to pull the gripped blaster her way instead-

 _"No!"_

A warning through the Force prompted her to react differently. The Master blocked herself from the sudden wave of strength blowing back her robes and headdress, the surprised yell of the intruder and the power of the Force ringing in her ears. Luminara immediately lowered her arm to reveal the sight to her; the young Initiate kneeling on the floor in terror. And the intruder, knocked several feet back.

Dazed.

But, for a moment, the Mirialan lingered her astonished gaze on the child, knowing she was fully responsible for that powerful blaster that knocked the thug and his weapon away. True, a Jedi did not react on fear, but the raw power demonstrated by the scared young Mirialan was still something to behold. And it wasn't long until the Temple Guards arrived at the scene, followed by a stern Master Windu.

"Master Luminara." The Korun greeted stoically, taking note of the unconscious Jocasta, the keeling Initiate and expressing disgust over the fallen intruder, sending the guards to deal with him. "Are you alright?"

The Jedi Master nodded while deactivating her blade, eyes not kept off the youngling for even a minute. "I am well, Master Windu. I shall leave Madame Jocasta and the thug to you. Additionally I will report to the Council when possible." Mace nodded, walking over to inspect the Archivist being helped up. And Luminara approached calmly towards the shaking Initiate, kneeling down gently to meet at eye level. "It's okay, young one." She coaxed gently. "The danger has past. You need not be afraid anymore. Are you alright?"

The much younger Mirialan slowly removed her hands from her face, mumbling something beneath her tone. Luminara strained to hear it. "There is no emotion there is peace. There is no emotion there is peace..."

The Jedi Master smiled slightly, placing a kind hand on the youngling's stiffening shoulder. "That's right, young one. You were very brave today. And despite your fear, you refused to panic under the face of a threat." Brown eyes gazed tearfully, and Luminara was rather affected by the reflection seeking out comfort. So she provided it. "I am Jedi Master Luminara Unduli. What's your name?"

"B-Bariss... Offee... Master..."

Bariss Offee. Luminara's smile widened. "Well, young Bariss. It seems the Force has brought us together for a purpose."

* * *

Upon finishing reading through the received report, Dooku released a tiny sigh, leaning back against his seat contemplatively.

So then, the holonet was correct in its news; some poor fool had attempted entry into the most secure vaults of the Jedi Temple. Impressive as it was alone to have infiltrated the sacred home of the Jedi alone, it came off as no big surprise to the Count. Over the years surrounding the Clone Wars, the Jedi have become far too lax.

Not to mention, an infamous Duros bounty hunter managed to break into the holocron vaults during the war, so that's to be expected.

What wasn't expected, however, was the temple having an intruder this early than the first timeline, nor the infiltrator in question. The report from his spies detailed that the captured mercenary was a tall, well-built human male with tattoos scattered across his body often associated to Mandalorian bounty hunters. Dooku thought back, knowing full well the temple was never violated by that particular hunter in the old timeline, and concluded the only logical idea. That Sidious was responsible for the infiltration to occur in the first place.

A rather sloppy execution, all things considered. The Count personally wouldn't consider sending Montross of all people to disguise himself as a Jedi and rob the ancient vaults. A sign of desperation, perhaps?

Or perhaps his former Sith Master was becoming intentionally difficult to predict.

The Count stood up, switching his straightened gaze from nowhere to the large stained window, the light of Serenno's sun reflecting beautifully through the images. An unpredictable Sith Lord was a dangerous one, the likes of Sidious moreso. Dooku prides himself in knowing his enemies, their thoughts, their styles, their movements, what they most likely will intend to do next, and this attempt of breaking into the vaults was terribly unsubtle by Sidious' part. The former Jedi wasn't 'afraid' by this new development - Serenno nobles nor Sith Lords felt 'fear' - but more unsettled. Sidious was planning something, and the Count didn't often enjoy being kept in the dark; especially where his former teacher was concerned.

He'll deal with investigating this revelation later. For now, there were more pressing matters the noble must attend to. Count Dooku was expecting a call any minute regarding some new potential allies to his cause... And by allies, he truthfully meant 'expendable assets.'

Because, by deemed every way, the Hutts had no place in his grand vision for the galaxy.

With Jedi Master Pong Krell dealt with, the Pykes and Black Sun accepting proposals of negotiation, and the Nightsisters now aiding the Separatist cause, Dooku could focus his attention on wiping away another significant piece of scum from the face of the galaxy. After that, he'll consider dealing with the young Initiate Bariss Offee before she, too, becomes as much a threat to his vision as the inane Besalisk was.

Talzin and her witches served no genuine threat to him. At least, not as of yet. But like all other criminal organizations, the Hutt Cartel was another disease needing to be cleansed from the galaxy. The Pyke Syndicate and Black Sun clans were of no exception, and Dooku would attempt to rally all known criminal gangs under his thumb. All the more better to rid of this diseases with a single stroke.

The Hutts were the most notorious gangsters of the Outer Rim, operating their empire through unsavory means. Slavery, blackmail, illegal trade, assassinations. Anything to gain them more undeserving power and a safe fortress to hide in. Dooku found these means distasteful. True, he wasn't as objecting about it as he had been during the war, but they were means to an end. And the Count shall use these stains of the Outer Rim until before it becomes too late for them to comprehend.

And, right on cue, his desk alerted him to an incoming transmission.

Dooku accepted the call with grace, standing tall and with false courtesy as the expected image of the Hutt and his droid translator appeared over him. Jabba's structure, even in holographic form, expanded beyond the wide desk itself, and the Count forced himself not to frown in revulsion at the sight of the repulsive gangster.

 _How simple it would be,_ Dooku thought wryly, _To choke the life out of this overgrown slug where he stands._

But, refusing to succumb to primal urges than, say, Skywalker, the Count dipped his head in polite acknowledgement. "Mighty Jabba. I am gratified to see you have received my message."

The Hutt passed Dooku a weighing stare, and spoke in that exaggerated, vile tongue on his. "The most gracious Jabba is humbled to have gained an invitation for potential business between the Hutt Clan and the nobility of Serenno." Jabba spewed more saliva than comprehensible words. "It is said the noble houses contain more credits in their vaults than one can dream of."

Greed. The bane of all men, and the downfall of many more. Dooku never sought wealth personally, like the Separatists, money was also a necessity to get what he desires. And that includes attracting the attention of a slug the size of one of Bogden's moons.

"The Exalted Jabba wishes to assure you, Count Dooku, that you have made the right decision in choosing him for a potential partner as opposed to the rest of the Hutt Cartel." So Jabba believed. "Although the Mighty Jabba desires to learn as to why one of Serenno's nobles would consider doing something unorthodox to the houses."

Dooku smiled, gesturing with widened arms. "I am not above recognizing potential when I see it, Jabba. Out of all the Cartel, you are perhaps the most influential, not to mention, trustworthy. I think we will gain many great feats together, benefiting both your empire and my cause, if this ideal partnership becomes a reality."

The massive Hutt garbled something else out of his repulsive vocabulary, prompting the droid to recite in Basic, "And what is this 'cause' you speak of? There _are_ rumours spreading over a separate government as opposed to the Republic being founded under knowing eyes."

Dooku will credit the Hutt for one thing; he was awfully perceptive. With a collected mask, the former Jedi smirked friendly, clasping his hands behind him. "I see nothing can be hidden from his Excellency. But if you wish to know of my full intentions, that will depend on whether or not these negotiations come to be."

Jabba examined the human across the galaxy, leaning down somewhat in the hologram as though studying the composed Count. Dooku dared not imagine the scenario if they were in real close proximity, refusing to sniff the fabricated stench.

And, finally, a low rumbling emerged form the disgusting Crime Lord's throat. Jabba chuckled with a fat smile, rubbing his meaty hands while replying in Huttese once again. "Mighty Jabba is pleased by your boldness, Count Dooku, and would like to offer you an invitation to his Excellency's palace on Tatooine, to discuss this potential partnership in person."

Clever. To make the meeting look all the more authentic. Dooku supposed he could humour the pleased Hutt. He nodded. "I shall arrange for transport to Tatooine very soon. I shall let you know of my upcoming arrival."

"We look forward to it."

Dooku couldn't exactly share those reservations.

Once the communication ended, he was finally permitted to scowl. Dealing with the Hutts was always a nuisance, but a necessary one. Part one of the plan was complete, now to use the next method to earning the Hutt's trust indefinitely. And the Count knew exactly how to pull it off.

By utilizing a similar scenario used against the Hutt involving his infant son, early on in the war. And the Count, like last time, intended for this idea to work with no traces back to him. None of the Separatists nor his own personal allies could be used for this one.

It was time, he decided, to give that insufferable pirate Hondo a call.

* * *

 **AN: Notice how almost every scene with Dooku in the Clone Wars involved a hologram, mostly between himself and Sidious? Makes me wonder how useful those things would be in real life. Regardless, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and look forward to the next one. Next time, we see the return of everyone's favourite Weequay scum. Until then, my friends!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. If I had, less CGI for all. Did you know in Attack of the Clones when Anakin and Padme were dining together, the food was CGI as well? I wish I was making that up. Enjoy!**

* * *

Another day, another afternoon spent in peaceful meditation.

"Ugh..."

Well, almost peaceful.

Repressing a weary sigh, Qui-Gon spoke to his fidgeting Padawan without opening his eyes. "Anakin, indulge your old Master for a moment and relax."

As expected, the young teenager proclaimed earnestly, "But I can't Master! The Padawan tournament is just in two hours. How am I suppose to relax until then?"

"By finding balance in the Force young one." Qui-Gon simply responded.

"Easy for you to say, you're obsessed with meditating, moreso than any Jedi I know!"

"A Jedi has no obsessions, Anakin, but I'm pleased, at the very least, you've taken notice of your teacher's activities. Now, sit down and relax."

The shuffled sound of feet, a somber mood in the Force. "Yes Master..." Qui-Gon internally smiled at the sour grumbling. To any other Jedi Master, Anakin would be lectured severely for such casual behaviour and disregard to achieving peace through the Force, but Qui-Gon was nothing if not patient and empathetic.

Besides, a part of him enjoyed the boy's unorthodox attitude within the Temple. It was a welcome change of fresh air. Obi-Wan would be scandalized to hear those very thoughts coming from his old stern Master.

Sensing a wave of unease on the thought of his previous pupil, Qui-Gon released such anxieties into the Force. Focus on the here and now, and right now, he was focused on calming his young overzealous Chosen One.

"I sense you're troubled, young one." Despite the impressive mental shields, the bond between apprentice and teacher was far stronger, to the point Qui-Gon can sense the turmoil festering in the young boy's heart. "And not just over the tournament."

A flash of unease boiled from the boy's presence-

 _Teenager. He's a teenager now, Qui-Gon. They do grow up ridiculously fast._

At his Padawan's reluctance, Qui-Gon sighed and opened his eyes, sitting cross-legged on the opposite side to his troubled young student. He was really beginning to feel old age catch up to him; Anakin always brought out the worst and best from him. "I can't help you unless you confide in me Anakin. I'm always here to help, you know that."

A twitch of the lips, the teenager staring hard at the floor. Qui-Gon wasn't surprised, he recognized the mood swings. Thus prompting the man to press.

"Is it about the attack in the Temple?" Silence. "Something else." Another flash in the Force. A positive. "Is it personal?" The flash grew brighter, and Qui-Gon was beginning to hazard a wearisome guess. "Is it about Obi-Wan?"

Anakin winced, confirming his suspicions.

Qui-Gon sighed again, feeling the grey hairs above him worsen. Reaching forward, the Jedi Master placed a firm hand on the reluctant Padawan's small but growing shoulder. "Anakin-"

But sometimes, the Will of the Force liked to play cruel tricks even on those devoted to it. Releasing his brief frustration into the Force, the Jedi Master pulled and rose, opting to answer the vocal comlink resting on the table to his right. Whoever it was better be brief, Qui-Gon prioritized tending to his Padawan's concerns than whatever nonsense the Council wished to throw at him this time.

"Master Jinn here."

"Qui-Gon." Despite the neutral tone from the Korun Jedi Master, Qui-Gon knew Mace long enough to recognize the layer of urgency beneath. "Your presence is needed in the communication room immediately."

Frowning worriedly, Qui-Gon sensed something in the Force. He moved the silver object closer to his lips. "I'm preparing for my Padawan for the tournament."

"The Padawan Tournament has been postponed for tomorrow. Your student can wait to show off until then, surely." Qui-Gon restrained expressing annoyance at the unsubtle jab. From the side, Anakin bowed his head. "Now Qui-Gon, this is an emergency."

Ah, no rest for the wicked.

"Understood." Deactivating the coms, the Jedi sighed once more and turned to his Padawan, speaking gently, "Meditate until I return. We will discuss this afterwards." Truthfully, the Jedi was reluctant to go and leave his own Padawan continuously troubled. But, quite frankly, he was in no need to start another bickering with the Council today. "I'll be back soon." Before making a swift departure, wanting this summoning to be over with when possible.

But even so, something amiss in the Force was urging Qui-Gon to quicken his pace. Whatever was happening, it must be related to the attack in the Temple Archives, for no doubt all the Jedi currently residing within their home can feel the sensation.

A change was coming, and Qui-Gon could sense it. Odds are, perhaps, so could all Force Wielders.

* * *

A change was happening, and Dooku can sense it. Odds are, perhaps, so could his former Padawan and all Force Wielders.

This was it. The moment has come.

With the Grand Hall, various species and representatives alike stood and sat respectively in their rightful places. The podium looming over the gathered people of importance was attended by Dooku himself. Masters Sifo-Dyas and Ky Narec stood between the Count, their arms folded and expressions as serious as their dispositions. From the corner of the high-ranked booth, Asajj Ventress and Shmi Skywalker watched in growing anticipation.

And behind the two Jedi and one Sith Lord, stood the very people who will mostly tribute in making their shared vision a reality. Viceroy Gunray, Foreman Wat Tambor, Chairman San Hill, Magistrate Argente, Presidente Mai, Archduke Poggle, Mother Talzin, and recently entitled by the Jabiim Congress; Senator Stratus. Below and watching the Count expectantly, key figures new and old branded together to achieve a dream only the corrupt Republic and its dogmatic leaders couldn't possibly comprehend.

 _History repeats itself,_ Dooku mused wryly, gazing the hopeful and greedy figureheads all summoned to Raxus for this special declaration.

But this time, the future was well on his side. Dooku knew it, he was sent back to rectify an error made since his departure from the Jedi Order. With Sidious no longer required to educated him, direct his footsteps and bringing in certain individuals for their own ends, there was nothing Sidious could accomplish now to stop the rising ashes of a new order; an order the Force itself guided him towards. This time, he will make the galaxy safe and equal once more.

This time, he will make the Qui-Gon he knew proud.

The gathering in this Hall was announced the moment after Jango reported to the Count on Serenno, informing him the deed was done, alongside the assistance of a Duros bounty hunter whom demanded quadruple the cut in return. The price was hardly worrisome, the ends justified the means, and his criminal allies were reaping from the benefits.

"It's time, Count." Tambor stated from behind, and Dooku nodded, raising his head high and expressing a passionate conviction. The time has finally arrived. This time, Sidious, the Jedi, all those who try to oppose true Balance in the Force and the universe couldn't prevent the change of tides made today.

As the holo droids floated around him, Count Dooku spoke to all the masses. "Greetings, everything living in this galaxy..."

* * *

Qui-Gon was almost taken aback by the apprehension in the air. It was unbecoming of Jedi to feel so anxious, so you'll have to forgive the aging Master's surprise by the anxiousness radiating off the gathered Masters in the communication center. Arms folded in his sleeves, Qui-Gon walked down the steps to join the fellow Jedi, addressing the others focused on the projection of various worlds calmly. "My apologies for my tardiness, has anything transpired." The question was asked mostly out of politeness's sake.

It was Mace who answered, hazel eyes gazing intently on the table with a grim expression matching that dark tone. "The Hutt family has been wiped out."

Something akin to a shiver reached down Qui-Gon's spine, whether from the revelation or Mace's tone. The news had him immediately drop his own arms in puzzlement. "I'm sorry?"

Plo Koon happily clarified for the confused Jedi Master, the mask failing to cover up the solemnness in the Kel Dor's voice. "The entire Hutt clan was taken out, just the day before. It is all over the holonews."

The entire Hutt clan...? Qui-Gon was finding it skeptical to believe. "Are we sure about that?"

"Their bodies were discovered on Hutta." Jedi Master Shaak Ti responded, expression just as grim as everyone elses in the room. "All evidence points to an explosion, with the charred chambers and scorched remains. It appears someone has finally decided to declare war on the Hutt Cartel."

Qui-Gon was still reeling over this fatal news. "But, who would be so foolish...?"

"Whoever it was, they've already won." Kit Fisto answered with crossed arms, almost callously. "The Cartel's in disarry with all its leaders clearly assassinated at the same time. We've already received reports that crime syndicates such as Black Sun and the Pykes are already claiming the Hutt's territories ass their own, moving in to take everything for themselves."

"And the Senate?"

"The Senate is in its own emergency session regarding this." Mace continued for the Nautolan, glancing over to Qui-Gon with a heavy frown, typical of his posture. "Such a bold move by the ones responsible has already impacted the galaxy at large. Without the Hutts, there's a significant power vacuum waiting to be filled in."

That was putting it mildly. The Hutts had former control over many trade routes and resources obtained through illegal means, not to mention various systems in the Outer Rim. With the Hutt family dead, that section of the galaxy will be in utter chaos. This was what the Force was warning him about, warning them all about.

But a warning... Or a message?

"And it seems their criminal rivals are all too happy to fill that vacuum." Adi Gallia added somberly.

"We can't rule the possibility that the Temple intrusion not long ago has come connection." Mace claimed strongly. "The Force is telling me that much." He added before anyone could express doubt to that.

Master Tiin nodded, the Ikotchi looking more troubled than most despite his natural hardened features. "Yes, the Force has been in disarray for a while now, almost as if it's been anticipating this very event for a long time..."

"Something is happening in the Force." Master Unduli agreed wholeheartedly, Mirialan features pacifistic. "It has happened ever since the trade blockade on Naboo all those years ago. Our next direction would be locating the mysterious assailants of the Hutts and uncovering their intentions." Qui-Gon agreed, it was best to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Events were occurring too much it was starting to get to even him.

Having kept quiet for the whole conversation, the Grand Master of the Order opening his wise eyes and directed focus solely on the projection table. "Hm, answer that already, the galaxy will." Before anyone could ask, all Jedi Masters were snapped their heads to the sudden blue figure emerging atop the table, a figure with a neat beard and blazing determined eyes. The Force radiating off his man like an inferno, and everyone recognized him on the spot, his cultured voice like a leaf against the razor wind.

Qui-Gon repressed a shudder. The answer was already clear now.

 _"Greetings, everything living in this galaxy. I am Dooku, formerly Master Dooku of the apathetic Jedi Order..."_

* * *

 _"-Now known by many in the political world as noble Count Dooku of Serenno. No doubt some of you have heard of my exploits against the Republic Senate, a reputation I hold no shame in bearing-"_

The call for order by the Vice Chairman standing beside Palpatine became pointless, the sudden blue figure overtaking the podiums and whole rotunda quieting the stunned senators and representatives alike. The recent new regarding the genocide of the entire Hutt clan had caused an emergency session the following day afterwards, Palpatine opting to appeal to the masses as Sidious pondered these recent events, having a sneaky suspicion to the one responsible,

And now, the idea was proving very substantial.

* * *

 _"- But this galaxy-wide broadcast isn't about me. It is an announcement bearing the survival of you all-"_

With a curious young Lux watching in blissful ignorance, Mina Bonteri observed the hologram in faint fascination. Better to hear what this man has to say, to have gone through all the troubles to borrowing the Grand Hall on her home world.

* * *

 _"- For I speak for not solely myself, but for every man, woman, child, species, world, all who have been forgotten or brushed aside by greed and inefficiency by the unstable government we find ourselves once forced to rely upon-"_

From her quarters, Komari glared at the holoscreen in her own anticipation, having initially refused to accompany her former Master and his cronies to Raxus. Dooku had warned her she wouldn't want to miss this broadcast, despite her own indifference on the matter.

* * *

 _"- I ask you, my friends, have we, perhaps, been relying on the this self-proclaimed strong Republic for too long? Have we become too lenient with allowing this self-serving 'democracy' to handle affairs for us, uncaring for the consequences?"_

The screen of a straightened elderly man adorned in noble attire radiating power and conviction spread all across Coruscant. The sudden hijack of the Senate footage attracted the attention of all beings watching, and many more gathered in curiosity and worry, from the high building to the deepest underworld. Workers and security forces alike paused in their work to watch, people in the seediest cantinas glanced in wary caution at the brown eyes seemingly penetrating into the souls of all living in the galaxy.

* * *

 _"- How many worlds have suffered because of the Senate's favouritism, for whoever's pockets contain the most credits? Gold and resources have all become the main priority of the government we are demanded to obey. Rest assured, I am far from the only being who suffers from what the diseased Senate inflicts."_

And as the galaxy watched, many people of various species blinked at the sudden appearance of another man replacing Dooku, a strong-built human with features and expression containing the scars of war. His voice was more powerful, holding nothing back from the sheer iron will he possessed.

 _"The Republic is filled with lies and ignorance!"_ The man roared, startling even patrons from the cantina's of Tatooine to the casinos of Nar Shaddaa. _"My world has suffered because we apparently held nothing of substance for them to obtain. Jabiim had endured multiple raids and invasions by pirates, mercenaries and countless more creatures without the Republic's assistance. Time and time again, we pleaded, we begged for the Republic's help, but they turned a blind eye, simply because we had nothing to fill up their pockets! Enough is enough, it is time we wake up and face the truth: the Republic is a self-serving tyranny that only helps itself and those when it benefits the corrupt Senate!"_

* * *

And as the people of Jabiim cheered for their recent new Senator, roaring in agreement and slander against the failed Republic, Dooku took the projections and screen again, nodding in seeming exhaustion. His voice was wry and empathetic, _"And yet, Jabiim is not the first to suffer from wounds the Republic neglected to heal."_

And this time, it was the inhabitants of Kalee and all star systems neighbored to it who snarled and roared triumphantly, a new figure revealing himself to the galaxy after Dooku. Knowledge of Kalee culture would have anyone recognize the bony mask and yellow eyes typical of the Kaleesh. The warrior spoke his own piece with a growl, far deeper yet resonating with power just like his other allies.

 _"My world was plagued by scum who allied with this very Republic, taking advantage in order to subjugate my people. The Kaleesh are a proud race, we answer to no one! The Huk were wise to have faith in a system who only serves its own needs, yet foolish enough to try enslaving their betters! Our people repelled our invaders and won the war, no thanks to the Republic, but to a man who believe sin true equality and freedom for the galaxy at large! Count Dooku is a warrior of words, and Kalee will express gratitude as everlasting allies! The Republic. Is. Inept!"_

* * *

Meanwhile, in the rotunda on Coruscant, yells of anger and disbelief echoed across at the various people scolding the Republic and placing doubt in their citizens. While many were protesting, shouting for them to switch off the broadcasts, other Senators were laid back, observing the show in intrigue, doubt... And agreement.

The Kaleesh Warlord was replaced, once again, by the Count responsible for it all. _"In my eighty years of life, serving as a Jedi and protector of the Republic, I held on for a long time, in vain hope I could, potentially, restore the Republic to its former glory, ensuring the safety and peace of all living things in the galaxy we love... I was a fool."_

Dooku sighed, looking completely sincere, before those eyes glazed in determination, even to the ones watching the holographic broadcast.

 _"Which is why I gathered all these like-minded people, today, who have been wronged, their cries for help ignored, their resources and people taken advantage of; worlds, groups and corporations alike, all exasperated over the corruption of the Republic. Today, I, Count Dooku, declare no more. All worlds and citizens watching, leave this wretched government, and join our new order."_

Mutters of outrage and concerns vibrated among the Senate, but no one pried their eyes away even once from the standing tall Count.

 _"An order of peace, freedom and security. Of equality and free will. One untouched by greed and deception. Today, I speak on behalf of many representatives who stand with me against this diseased sorry state of a democracy, and form a new government. Today marks the beginning, and everlasting, Confederate Alliance of Equal Systems!"_

"Order! Order!" Vice Chariman Amedda called in futility, attempting to quell the fury and objections spewing from the mouths of greedy and doubtful Senators alike. Palpatine only kept quiet, observing the holo-projection contemplatively. Whatever he was thinking was beyond the understanding of the gathered Senate.

Replacing the Count next was the lean, formally dressed form of a male Muun, nasal voice radiating smugness and pride. _"I, Chairman San Hill, of the Intergalactic Banking Clan, ally with the Confederate Alliance in the name of cleansing the corruption from the banks and frail Republic alike."_

That only provoked further outrage. Next was the appearance of an aged Geonosian gripping a cane, translator droids speaking for those ignorant to his native language. _"I, Archduke Poggle the Lesser, of Geonosis, ally with the Confederate Alliance for the rights of freedom and equality to all Geonosians, and the galaxy."_

The Kaleesh warrior returned, his mask hiding the triumphant features, but his serpentine eyes were smiling. _"I, Qymaen Jai Sheelal, representing the people of Kalee, ally with the Confederate Alliiance for the right of freedom and equality to all my people."_

Next came the muscled man of conviction from before, voice remaining tall and strong. _"I, Alto Stratus, representing the people of Jabiim and the Jabiim Congress, ally with the Confederate Alliance for the right of freedom and equality to all my people, along those within the galaxy suffering from the arrogance of the Republic."_

Followed by an appearance shocking those familiar with the Jedi. A well-built robed figure with heavily bearded features and determined eyes. _"I, Master Sifo-Dyas, Jedi Master, ally with the Confederate Alliance in the name of freedom and equality to all living things, and end this corruption which plagues the Senate."_

But he wasn't the only Jedi. A more intimidating man appeared next with folded arms, hardened eyes enduring no nonsense. _"I, Master Ky Narec, Jedi Master, ally with the Confederate Alliance in the name of freedom and equality to all living things, for the peace in the galaxy and the Force."_

The list of representatives only increased from there. Senators, citizens and criminal scum all watched in surprise, wonder and shock at the many people speaking for this newly-instated government separating all ties from the Republic, rebelling against a system which stood strong and proud for over ten thousand behalf of this Confederacy spoke people of worlds, corporations and even, to the biggest surprise of them all, slaves.

Dooku had to clarify there. _"As you no doubt have heard, the Hutt Empire has been demolished in one day. Who is there to take credit for such? No one else but yours truly."_ Multiple gasps echoed across the stunned Senators, but the Count kept speaking with open ease, as if simply stating the facts. _"The Republic turned a blind eyes to the people and systems suffering from the Hutt Cartal and many vast criminal organizations alike. To repent for their crimes, I hav tasked the more... Trustworthy syndicates to seize all assets the Hutts had previously possessed, tying up all loose ends. Such as, say, erasing all debts expected of poor families, alongside ending the slave trade permanently."_

* * *

And from the woman now taking up the holo, Qui-Gon showed the faintest of grimaces, noticed by none of the skeptical Jedi but one small green troll.

From the other side of the Temple, Anakin's Force signature flared up in shock.

* * *

 _"I was born into slavery."_ The middle-aged woman began, clearly unused to being the center of attention, putting it mildly. _"I was forced to the whims and expectations of several masters, whom sought only to amuse themselves and dispose of anyone they declared no loner serviceable. It was... Awful. Purely and utterly awful..."_ The person closed her eyes, taking a shuddering breath, and the audience leaned in curiously, sensing something was about to happen.

They were right.

Something glinted in her eyes, a newfound determination not shown since she gave up her one and only son long ago. _"Count Dooku has given me a home, a place to belong, work with fair pay and no shock collars to keep me in check. And now... Now he has done the same to all former slaves. Everyone is free to return to their families, or make a new home for themselves. To all who have suffered this tragic fate, like I, you are all free! I, Shmi Skywalker, will never stop expressing gratitude to the one man who has given me a chance, and now has gifted that chance to everyone who suffered under those thugs. I will follow his cause until the very end."_

For the final time, the confident face of the elderly Count revealed itself once more, a tiny smile gracing his noble lips. _"I might be old by human standards, but my resolve carries me forward. To everyone who wishes for a new, better democracy for our shared galaxy, one of the freedom to act, to choose, to help and be helped when needed, leave that decaying hush of a government, and join the Alliance. To the Galactic Senate, I pity your stance; you have only destroyed yourselves, and young self-conceited shall only drag you down further."_

* * *

 _"To the Jedi Order, consider carefully whom your true enemies are."_ All the Council Members frowned heavily.

* * *

 _"To everyone else, I leave you to choose, but I implore you; select wisely. If we work together, we can bring down this sorry state of a Republic and restore it from the root up. No more wars, no more deaths, no more greed."_ Brown eyes unblinking, the voice raised in passion and conviction alike, concluding this galaxy-wide broadcast. _"We can have others continue to suffer with their children, and their children's children starting tomorrow. Or, in a few years time, we can achieve the peace we have all truly sought for thousands of years. We will fight in your name... And we shall win. The choice is yours."_

And with that, the screens and holoprojections died out without delay, leaving only stunned silence of countless worlds... Followed by cries, loud vocal heavily-opinionated cries. Cries of contempt, of disagreement from the Senate and the people of Corsucant... And the countless cries of adoration and approval by the worlds continuing to suffer by the Senate's own incompetence.

From both sides of the Force, Sidious internally seethed behind the calm mask and request for peace among the rotunda, whereas Yoda maintained a composed outlook with an internal struggle of wonder and concern.

The Alliance had basically declared war.

* * *

As the holo spectacle was finally over, silence befell the room among the Jedi Masters, some trading wary glances than others. Qui-Gon bowed his head, Yoda tapped his wooden cane on the ground thoughtfully, Mace looked stern as ever, with a few other Masters looking decidedly uncertain.

It was Kit Fisto who broke the tension. "Well, we certainly can't deny he hasn't lost his touch."

* * *

After the announcement, among the applause of the gathered members on Raxus, a reception party we held in honour of Dooku and newly-found alliance. The Count found himself, though not unexpectedly, surrounded by senators representatives wishing to extend congratulations and discuss ways to improve their economy and people. Dooku maintained a kind smile and conversed with the many people over wine and laughter, slipping into the politician role with open ease.

Meanwhile, observing by the side, the two Jedi Masters watched the Count handle the eager people of power with relative ease. Sifo-Dyas struggled not to smile, imagining how Dooku was practically born into the role of politician, perhaps moreso than Jedi. His wordplay was that of a viper, slithering and twisting the mood around to match his whims. If they were to become more involved with the political play behind the Alliance, maybe Sifo-Dyas should ask for notes.

"You trust him, then?"

Master Narec stood tall and stoic as ever, impassive expression betraying nothing. None have yet to approach the two Jedi - perhaps out of nervousness or repulsion - giving them ample time to talk without being overheard. Sifo-Dyas glanced at his fellow Master from the corner of his eyes, before switching his gaze back to Dooku, answering calmly, "I like to believe he does have the best intentions at heart." Before commenting in faint humour, "His speech was certainly an uplifting one for those suffering terribly within the galaxy. Although, I was moreso surprised by your willing open alliance to the Count by announcing it."

Ky raised a brow. "I too share the belief that Dooku holds good will to everyone. His arguments regarding the leniency and corruption spreading to the Jedi Order was strong and with pure conviction. I have no reason to doubt his own passions."

"But you doubt the means in reaching those goals." Sifo-Dyas pointed out sagely.

"...I tolerated the plan to execute the Hutt family out of necessity, rather than tolerance. As a Jedi, it is sworn duty to preserve all life. But perhaps..." Those wise eyes stared over to a certain Dathomirian Padawan conversing with Miss Skywalker. "For the protection of others, we should be more open-minded."

Sifo-Dyas stayed quiet, mulling over those words. Over years working with the Jedi Master, Sifo-Dyas knew Ky enough to know the real connection between the Jedi and young Ventress. The two possessed a bond unbecoming of a Jedi, a bond which Dooku himself knew and often encouraged. Perhaps it was love for whom Ky considered a daughter in all but love which led him to aiding Dooku's cause. Compassion, but not a selfish desire, although Sifo-Dyas couldn't often resist reminding his fellow Jedi the dangers of attachment.

"And what about you, old friend?" Ky turned the conversation around, looking over to him. "Do you trust Dooku?"

A good question, one Sifo-Dyas was careful to answer. "Like you said, I believe he holds no dark intentions, despite his... Current allegiance to the Force."

"Be careful, Sifo-Dyas, I understand you two grew up together as friends, but you mustn't allow that to blind from any actions we shouldn't agree with." Ky said, rather sternly.

Sifo-Dyas nodded. "I understand Ky. But I won't be turning a blind eye anytime soon, like you. Dooku allowed us to monitor a close eye on his activities to make certain he's staying true to his word. Should anything we find problematic arises, we'll be there to set the Count straight."

"Be it by words or lightsabers."

Sifo-Dyas looked over to the cheerfully conversing Count, baring a small smile. "If so, the latter will give us a run for our credits."

* * *

For the first time amongst her career as a Senator, Padmé Amidala was struggling to contain a major headache. It didn't help with her guards and handmaidens fluttering around in worry and determination. But the real source of the migraine originated from the hologram sat opposite her desk, regarding the young woman with open patience.

"You must understand, Customs Vizier, with recent events and allegations made against the Republic, Naboo is struggling more to calm its citizens. Our renegotiation's will have to be postponed to a later date."

The Neimoidian sneered haughtily, clearly unimpressed. The formal-dressed business man raised his head. "I trust it will not take too long then, Senator. You understand the importance of maintaining a healthy relationship between our neighboring worlds, no?"

 _More than you know,_ Padmé thought wryly, outwardly attempting to pacify the Enarc representative further. "When possible, the Queen will contact you after the unrest has deserted. You have my word."

A pleased smile which radiated with smugness. "I should hope so, Senator. So far, I have yet to be impressed with both Naboo's new monarchy and representative in the Senate." And like that the hologram deactivated, leaving Padmé to exhale a fuming breath, forcing herself to calm down.

Unfortunately, true to her word, any negotiations to settle the tension between Naboo and Enarc following the Trade Blockade years back was distracted by civil unrest. Ever since yesterday's announcement of a government formed by neutral systems, the Republic was plagued by uncertainty and worry, affecting even the citizens of Padmé's home world. Just one year into her new job as a Senator, and Padmé was already biting more than she can chew.

Well, no one ever said it would be easy.

Pushing back against her desk, Padmé looked over to a handmaiden at work. "Sabé, please inform the guards for no one else to enter my office. I have a lot to think about."

"Of course your Maj- Senator."

Padmé couldn't resist smiling at the flustered slip, grateful for the loyalty of her handmaidens/friends. A reminder that even in trying times, there were other she can rely upon, and for them to rely upon her. Befriending equally-minded people in the Senate was a challenge in itself with small victories; many dismissed or outright laughed at her idealistic approach to settling matters, but Padmé wasn't deterred. Now, though, with recent formation of an opposing democracy, no one bother to approach nor request Padmé for assistance or advice, worrying about their own worlds and profit.

Which she could sympathize with. This Confederate Alliance led by Count Dooku was bad news and bad news alone. Ever since the broadcast, the young Senator objected vehemently against it. The answer to fixing the Republic wasn't starting a new government all together, but banding together all the Senators and discussing methods in repairing the damages and helping the poor people enduring through their mistakes! And yet, not many shared that approach to things.

For following the announcement, in just one day, over three hundred systems disbanded from the Republic openly to join the new Confederacy. Already the Senate declared the newly formed government a 'separatist movement,' but not many shared that opinion; instead agreeing that severe change was needed, and the Republic relies only on the wealthy and all-powerful. Even Chancellor Palpatine was finding it hard to maintain peace in the government, vowing to discuss terms with the Count of Serenno in order to sort this all out.

Will that work? Padmé certainly hoped so. War was never the answer to peace, despite all that happened on Naboo over six years ago. Things were getting out of hand too rapidly, a galaxy-wide battle on the horizon.

And the worse has yet to come.

"Mi'lady!"

What? Padmé looked up from her thoughts, startled by the interruption of Captain Panaka's sudden barging into the office, looking terribly urgent with those firm features. "Captain, what is it?"

Panaka looked absolutely grim, and his voice carried that forward. "It's the Queen, mi'lady, she's announcing Naboo's secession from the Republic."

* * *

 **AN: It just can't get any worse, can it? By the way, recently read a fic by someone about a self-insert who joins the Empire and shares everything he knows with Palpatine, helping him secure total victory against their shared enemies. This gives me my own future idea after Viper of Light.**

 **A self-insert which takes a place a long while after my arrival, and where I'm forced to play defense counsel... For Anakin Skywalker. I would not hesitate in exposing both Palpatine and Anakin to the Jedi for their respective crimes, but I imagine how funny it'd be for the court to request someone who wouldn't be so close but with enough facts to defend Anakin's case. I'd be doing everything the get the man thrown in hail forever!**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed, and swear your allegiance to Dooku's Confederate Alliance of Equal Systems. I can only do my best regarding the speeches made by the Count and all his allies, I just hope it left some impression on one reader out there. Were I in the Clone Wars, I'd have sided with Dooku in a heartbeat, but for different reasons entirely.**

 **Maybe I'll one day make a fic about that too. Until then, my friends!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. If I had... Hold on... Prequel changes, prequel changes... Ah! I would've scrapped Phantom Menace from the very beginning and started the tale with Anakin and Obi-Wan being apprentice and master right off the bat. Don't get me started how poorly the movies had shown their 'friendship' as old Ben Kenobi had described it. Without further ado, politics!**

* * *

To say the Galactic Republic was in uproar, following the announcement from the esteemed Count of Serenno, would be like saying a Gundark would make a poor politician.

Although, in fairness, a Gundark couldn't do far worse than the bumbling fools who took up a good half of the Senate of present.

The Core Worlds were panicking all over, the galaxy itself shifted by the change of events. An irreversible shift in the Force which even the felines of Lothol could detect. Days have passed following the emergence of Count Dooku's Confederate Alliance, and everything was in disarray, the Republic in turmoil. Its citizens lost and confused, wondering just what this meant for the government which had kept them in peace for a thousand years. Many demanded explanations, why neither the Republic nor Jedi were doing a single thing about it, and much more began to view things from the Alliance's perspective.

Worse still, how many star systems quickly declared their departure from the Republic in either fear or agreement to the Count's new system, siding with the Confederacy or joining up with the neutral worlds. Only one day following Dooku's announcement, over three hundred worlds seceded from the Republic they have been loyal to for generations, hiding no contempt over how impotent and diseased the self-proclaimed democratic system had become. And now many more follow, either with half-heated apologies, melodramatic speech, or without any explanation as to why they leave the very government which had stood by them for eons.

The Galactic Senate was faring no better. Official meetings between systems after the galaxy-wide announcement of a new government has spawned strife and uncertainty throughout the Senate chambers, representatives bickering back and forth over which method was viable in confronting this new history-changing development. A good portion of senators viewed this new democracy as a direct challenge to the strength and security of a proud government, voting to have this matter dealt with through aggressive negotiations or force if need be. Some even called for the Jedi to take action in this affair, declaring this a matter best to be resolved by the very guardians of the Republic.

Other senators argued vehemently against the idea. The Republic was a democracy of peace, not war, and they would not submit under pressure. Rather, they should approach this delicate affair with offer of peace and reaching an understanding with the new government formed by independent systems, stating that this whole ordeal can be viewed as a misunderstanding for disgruntled star systems whom believed misguidedly that the Republic has somehow failed them. Solutions must be made through compromise, not violence.

As you can guess, the Republic was facing an inner war with itself whilst the Alliance reaps from the benefits.

And in his office faced with many arguing senators, Darth Sidious was inwardly fuming while Chancellor Palpatine maintained a placid expression, motioning for calmness amongst his fellow politicians. Internally the Sith once again cursed Dooku for putting him through this tedious dilemma. Nothing Sidious couldn't handle, but the Count was clearly intending to make his life a living Hell.

"Senators, we must remain calm in this time of crisis." Palpatine attempted again, making a notion for peace which fell on deaf ears, grimacing by the multiple looks of outrage, indignation and anxiety amongst the representatives. "Fighting among ourselves will accomplish nothing towards handling this matter."

"How can you possibly be so calm about this?" The senator from Ord Mantell demanded. "This affects you as much as it does us, Chancellor!"

"Forgive me, your Excellency, but you must understand our plight." A representative from the Tingel Arm Sector stated with more calmness than the senator. "This unexpected foundation of a new government which could already, potentially match up to the Republic-"

"Is a false claim!" The delegate from Malastare interjected with a sneer. "There is no uprising rebellion capable of standing up against our Republic. The Count and his traitorous dogs are nothing more than jesters, mocking everything the Republic has stood for in centuries!"

Sounds of agreement and disagree rang through the office, and Sidious refrained from simply unleashing his exasperation and frying everyone with lightning on the spot. One because it would be a hassle to clean up, and two for the Jedi protector standing beside the weary Chancellor. In his mind's eye, Plagueis was laughing at his old pupil's misfortune from the netherworld.

"Good senators, surely we can resolve this new development without any further clashes." Palpatine tried desperately to appeal to the distraught delegates, smiling wanly. "We must be above the crude notion of bickering if we are to function as a democracy, yes? Let us simply take a breath and calm down."

"That's easy for you to say." One senator commented snidely. "Oh wait, no it isn't. I've heard rumors even your own home planet is leaving the Republic. How do you respond to that, Chancellor?"

"Would that not mean you would be forced to resign?" A worried delegate from Fondor inquired before Palpatine could get a word in. "Naboo's secession from the Republic will look bad for your public image, your Excellency. Your reputation is already called into question by the people for seemingly allowing this to happen. What are you intending to do, Chancellor Palpatine?"

"If we start to point fingers, we become exactly as the new Alliance has claimed." A smooth, well-cultured tone responded, the young Jedi Knight stepping forward with an aura composed of peace and serenity. Immediately, all noises died down to hear what the young Jedi had to say. "The Chancellor is correct senators; inner conflict will only worsen matters. We must all approach this newfound dilemma with a calm head and clear mind. Only through cooperation can we achieve whatever is needed to solve this conflict."

"Is that what the Jedi has to say?" The Dug from Malastare questioned with an unpleasant scowl. "Should your Order not be acting against this clear threat, young Knight?"

"The Jedi will do whatever we can to secure peace throughout the Republic." The native of Stewjon replied without skipping a beat, refusing to show submissions by the senator's piercing glare. "But in order for anything to get done, we must keep our wits about us and not bow down to pressure. The Republic has endured through worse challenges since its foundation and remained as champion through all of it."

Taking the chance as various Senators murmured over the Knight's words, Palpatine expressed his arms invitingly and stated. "Let us discuss this development in the next session, my friends. For now, I believe we must all take a moment to dwell on our next course of action." At that clear dismissal, many delegates began their departures, although a certain representative of Alderaan lingered with curious eyes on the young Jedi Knight accompanying the Chancellor, before following his fellow politicians. Once the room cleared, the Chancellor heaved a relieved sigh and glanced towards his saviour. "You have the gratitude of the Supreme Chancellor once more, Master Kenobi."

The young Jedi nodded, smiling in faint amusement. "Even the leader of a galactic democracy can't appease the masses alone, Chancellor."

Palpatine chuckled warmly, a weary smile gracing aged features. "Indeed, Master Jedi, indeed." Leaning back against his seat, the politician inquired as Sidious plotted. "I have always valued the insight of your Order, yours moreso. Tell me, do you truly believe there may be a peaceful solution to all of this?"

"We must trust in the Force and what it wills for us, Chancellor." Of course. The typical Jedi dogma. But Sidious sensed the faint trace of hesitation in Kenobi's heart regarding this, and inwardly smiled.

Let Dooku believe he's won the round, for now. Sidious has and always will be ten steps ahead of the curve. If Plagueis could never catch up to the machinations and masterpieces his former apprentice wove like a perfect orchestra, what chances did an idealistic old man with too much confidence have against the likes of a true Sith Lord? If it was war Dooku wanted, then Sidious would be all too happy to oblige.

He had a nasty little surprise just waiting for Dooku. On Kamino, in the Works, in this very office and far off locations, Sidious had everything needed to rid himself of this persistent nuisance once he decided that the self-absorbed Count was of no further entertainment.

In the meantime, there was one little deciding factor that must be removed. Sifo-Dyas. As long as the Jedi lives, then that would cause a spanner considering his involvement with Sidious' magnificent plans. Sifo-Dyas must die before he reveals anything noteworthy to Dooku regarding the secret clone army.

It was time to put his trained toy to the test.

Palpatine, meanwhile, nodded to the Jedi's 'wisdom.' "Of course. Although, I must ask if the Force gifted you this silver tongue of yours, Master Kenobi. Now, tell me, this whole ordeal hasn't affected Master C'Boath's pet project, I hope?"

* * *

To say Dooku was having a good day was addressing matters likely. The Count was satisfied enough he could travel to Tatooine and engage a Krayt Dragon without the mastery of the blade.

Finishing a call to Senator Bonteri, the esteemed Sith Lord took a moment to lean back against the comfortable seat, drawing in a warm breath and allowing blissful reality to caress his senses, the Force resonating in triumph and vows of joy. This was probably the closest Dooku has been to... Happy, for lack of a better word, ever since his reunion with Qui-Gon so many years ago. How time flies.

Everything was proceeding as foreseen. The Hutt Cartel has fallen without difficulty; that fool Hondo leading the underworld syndicates to acquiring all the benefits and delivering them on Dooku's doorstep. Of course, the Count wasn't oblivious to not presume that the pirates intended to keep some of the Hutt's treasures for themselves, but Dooku was content enough to allow his 'allies' into believing they would keep some of the riches. Pretense was a favourite activity of his.

Yet best of all, the steady number of worlds declaring their loyalty to the Count's newfound alliance swelled more than pride in the ex-Jedi's chest. All it took were a few steps of improvement; liberating systems, abolishing slavery, utterly decimating a criminal empire. Events the Republic has shown nothing but leniency towards for thousands of years. And those corrupt morons ruling from the Senate was wondering why they were so despised by a good half of the galaxy. Soon, it will be more than half.

Three quarters. Four-fifths.

And then, the entire galaxy will wish for the Republic to fall, burnt down and rebuilt from the ground-up, with Dooku spearheading the new age of prosperity. Victory had never tasted so sweet; perhaps a celebration was in order. A gala to commence the official first victory of the Confederate Alliance? Maybe Senator Bonteri would be more than thrilled to host such an event; it would make up for her needless assassination in a previous time and life.

Well, there was time to dwell on the trivialities later. More work was to be done first. Activating the holo-communication, the blue hues of Dooku's most prominent bounty hunters emerged above his desk. The three hunters responsible for leading the cleansing of the diseased Hutts.

"You have done well my friends." Dooku addressed the gentlemen smoothly. Human, Gen'Dai and Duros watched him expectantly, even if two of the infamous hunters hid their expression behind steel helmets. "I have transacted half the agreed payment within your accounts. The rest shall follow after completing your next assignment."

"I've already risked a lot facing the wrath of the Hutts, Count." Cad Bane sneered unpleasantly, hardly looking impressed. "If you want my services again, we triple the original deal, 'cause I get the feelin' this is gonna be just as dangerous, if not moreso."

"What is our next target?" Jango inquired stoically whilst the Gen'Dai nodded in agreement with the Duros bounty hunter. Payment was of no consequence to the Count. "We gonna take care of the rest of the underworld scum now, or what?"

Dooku smirked. "In due time, Jango. I still have a use for the organizations yet. After their business dealing with what remains of the Hutt Empire concludes, they must clear out the resources to the Alliance of your next target." One push of a button, the three holograms are shifted back in favour of a blue planet circling before the curious hunters. "Your next target is Zygerria. Long ago slavery was abolished there by the Jedi. But with the Hutts eliminated, they will become the next likely candidates to preserve the slavery legacy. Annihilate the planet's Queen, her staff and any heritage they may possess. It will send a message to all other corrupt worlds that the Confederate Alliance holds no affection for their ill-diseased practices."

"Great." Bane drolled wryly. "Now we're toppling an empire. This will either be the highlight of my career, or my downfall." The blue Duros then tilted his over-compensating fedora. Dooku had to stop himself from sneering at the appalling taste of headwear. "I take it back; quadruple my payment, and that world's all yours."

"Will we deal with the crimes syndicates afterwards?" Jango then questioned, a hint of impatience resting within his tone.

Durge just kept quiet, large arms crossed with a straightened posture. Less words and more action was the Gen'Dai's philosopher. In some ways, he reminds Dooku as a mixtured personality between the other two bounty hunters beside him.

"After the Zygerrian Empire has fallen, its resources provided to the Alliance, then you may annihilate the Pyke Syndicate, Black Sun and all other criminal scum." Dooku nodded, sensing the waves of pleasure emanating from Jango and Durge specifically. "You are free to be as loud or discreet, but your work must send a clear message."

Just the image of a surprised Hondo being shot on the spot brought a pleased internal smile to the Count's face. That pirate was always more trouble than he's worth.

"Oh." Durge's mechanized voice finally rumbled, radiating amusement and growing anticipation. "We'll send a message alright. You can 'count' on us." Followed with the three figures and planet blinking off, leaving the Count back to his dark office. Dooku once again leaned back, nodding to himself in satisfaction.

If the man was rather honest - and Dooku considered himself a more honest man than many - the Count wondered how Sidious would retaliate in this regard. The rival Sith Lord often held a backup plan behind every backup plan; a contingency beneath the contingency. Sidious planned for every move, every counter, every attempt, trial and error. Sidious was perhaps a greater chessmaster than Dooku could ever hope to compete with.

However, Dooku was more eager than wary. Not to say he would play the other Sith's games and willing fall into the slippery man's hands. Thirteen years under Sidious' thumb has taught Dooku one or two things regarding how the other Dark Lord would react in unprecedented situations. As Dooku told the stubborn Council: One must approach the dark to destroy the dark.

...Yet...

Something has... Changed. Something within himself the Count was not even certain of. He sensed it. His two Jedi allies have sensed it. Even Master Yoda and Darth Sidious respectively must have detected something. Dooku frowned, wary. He didn't truly taste any new sensation that was unusual to him, but the Dark Side in him had yet to shift. He neither felt more powerful nor weakened, despite almost six years now of complete training in preparation for his enemies. The darkness was ever present within the former Jedi, and yet...

As was _light._

Scowling, the Count waved it off in favour for keeping his Alliance in check, about to call for Master Narec to join him. Sifo-Dyas was travelling to Dathomir after Mother Talzin has requested for the Alliance's assistance regarding a private affair. The Jedi Master could be trusted to handle the likes of the Nightsisters and anything else that comes his way.

As for Ky, Dooku had a new assignment for the stoic Jedi Master. Now with the Confederacy formed earlier than before, and their statement to the galaxy significant and a desperate call for change, it was time to bring in the other side of neutral systems beyond the corrupt rule of the former Hutts and various criminal organizations. An aligned treaty spearheaded by a certain passionate Duchess, led by a more pacifistic approach to matters.

This time, Satine Kryze will see things his way.

* * *

There is no emotion, there is peace.

There is no irritation, but there are inconveniences.

Of course, Sifo-Dyas had anticipated such mild 'warm' welcoming from the Dathomirian sisters. Not this yellow and black Force user attempting to cut him down with the dual-grip of a rare saber art.

Following an urgent summonings to the planet raked in darkness, Dooku had dispatched Sifo-Dyas purely because Mother Talzin specifically requested the Jedi Master as opposed to the Count, claiming there was an issue only one fulfilled with light could resolve. Of course, a disturbance in the Force warned them of there being more to this transmission, so Dooku heeded for his old friend to exercise caution in this matter, vaguely referencing something about Felucia and to be mindful of his surroundings. Sifo-Dyas felt like a lectured Padawan, but it was typical of Dooku to berate those even considered his peers.

Upon approach and arrival to the reddened jungles, the Dark Side claimed dominance, and no wonder. Dathomir shared much history in days of lore. An exiled Jedi Knight asserted herself among the inhabitants of this world and passed on her teachings to the very natives she took over, the teachings and foundations she crafted eventually ritualized to the witches who hold this planet even today. And around two years before the Ruusan Reformation, a Sith Academy was installed on Dathomir by Lord Kaan.

One foot from the boarding ramp onto the disquieting surface brought shivers down the experienced Master's spine. But he wouldn't be a Jedi with lack of any composure or assurance that the Force would guide him. A small journey towards the dead forest with Talzin's dominion rested, Sifo-Dyas was expecting at least some greeting in the form of daggers or arrows pointed at his back and sides.

Not a sloppy, amateurish Force wielder desperately focusing on strength over skill.

Now, maybe amateur was harsh a critique. The opponent was evidently trained well enough, the Dark Side pouring off the male Zabrak in waves of focused energy, directed from an outside source. Sifo-Dyas heard the warning in the Force just as the assailant leapt from the red mist, intending to strike the unsuspecting Master on the spot. With a duck and roll, Sifo-Dyas extinguished his ocean blade and met the opponent's bloody hue head-on, pushing the lean Zabrak back with minor force.

His opponent was far from deterred, the double-bladed weapon activating in full and illuminating the foe admist the fog. A figure clad in metallic black armour, keenly designed like the Sith Warriors of old. The darkness in him was different, far too influenced and obviously integrated by a force beyond Dathomir. It appears one of Dooku's many suspicions regarding their foe proved fruitful.

Sidious, indeed, was grooming more candidates under his sickening cause.

The Zabrak snarled, yellow eyes blazing in sneering contempt, and Sifo-Dyas knew there wasn't time to indulge this revelation, sensing the deception the Dark Lord had woven. Raising his blade defensively, Sifo-Dyas adopted the traditional Form III gesture and waited. His trained opponent wasted no time striking again, and Sifo-Dyas immediately recognized the more brutish tactics of basic Djem-So.

It was as if the Zabrak expected the Jedi's death to happen quickly. Sadly the Sith was mistaken, Sifo-Dyas, having sparred with the Count by occasion, had some rather unique advantages on his side, otherwise the Jedi Master may not have lasted this long. Dooku had provided extensive lessons and advice when facing the Sith menace, Master or Apprentice. As two spinning blades pushed and shoved, sparkling against an azure lightsaber, the Count's stern tip sprung to mind.

 _"A Sith draws on his anger to sustain him. If a Jedi were to engage one in combat, relying on defense alone, it would be far from enough. The latter would tire and perish quicker than the former. To best a Sith through lightsaber combat alone, deception plays a key role. Draw your opponent in, believing he exhausts you towards your limits, and once the arrogance is palpable, take advantage of it."_

Centered in the Force, Sifo-Dyas continued, decades of training as a fully-fledged Master, equipped with the knowledge from Jedi and Dooku alike, Soresu acted against Djem So beautifully, the mist illuminated by the sparks and glows of blue and red. The Master's eyes hardened; this Zabrak had only a few years of training, this was evident. But, frankly, if this was the Sith Master's intent to assassinate the more experienced Jedi, he almost felt affronted.

His opponent grunted and bared sharp teeth, displaying first signs of frustration admist the anger and rigorous fury he drew from. It didn't help that the adept was a clear newcomer to dual-wielding lightsabers. Jar'Kai itself was a sacred art among lightsaber combat, something not typically mastered by the average force user. Its disadvantages included reliance on offensive rather than defensive. Another that, for a Jedi, it took several years of practice and experience to become an expert over a singular blade alone. Thirdly, a direct focus on Jar'Kai often negated the urge to improve in many other areas, such as Force prowess or moderation.

These drawbacks were growing more and more clearer the further Sifo-Dyas dueled with his assailant, and it was rather staggering. Dooku claimed that Sidious was the most brilliant and deceptive tactician and Sith in galactic history, yet dispatches a half-trained child with rushed practice in _Jar'Kai_ to rid himself of a _Jedi Master?_

Or, was the Dark Lord perhaps targeting the shrouded Nightsisters, and Sifo-Dyas just happened to show up admist the affair?

Regardless, Sifo-Dyas refused to allow this incredulity to negate his concentration, parrying and directing all assaults to the side and above the Master. The Zabrak was waning, the beads on his forehead and sharp horns growing more present and his anger giving way to strained frustration. Surely Sidious couldn't help sustain the Zabrak's energy for long?

Again, the double-bladed light spun around with a deadly grace, Sifo-Dyas sensing where the intent lay and promptly blocking, repeating the notion and feigning to be on the retreat. Forms III and V battled for supremacy. It was a unique relationship, concerning these chosen methods of combat. Djem-So was created for an answer to Soresu's vulnerability to over-reliance on protection, an offspring requiring kinetic energy to wield and emphasis on heavy assault. Sifo-Dyas concluded that this foe, ill-trained as he was, was likely suited more as brute acolyte for Sidious' being than a true disciple.

One of many pawns, and Sifo-Dyas wasn't far from inclining sympathy for the fallen Zabrak.

The advantage to use Dooku's advice came in full, the Zabrak snarling and making an error with a downward notion with a red blade plunging deep into the ground. Sifo-Dyas spun behind the armoured attacker, swinging an Ataru kick to the foe's back waist, sending him staggering forward. Sifo-Dyas hardly flinched by the tough metal his unprotected boot impacted into.

Quickly recovering, the Zabrak spun to face the steely growled and made a push gesture. Immediately the Master retaliated with his own open palm, the impressively strong Force Push only sending the Jedi skidding a few feet back. Raising his saber readily, the assailant sneered menacingly. "Jedi..."

Sifo-Dyas maintained his blade before him, prepared to continue this battle if need be. Somehow, Sifo-Dyas got the impression that ordering this brute to stand down would be ill-fitting for the moment.

And appropriate too, for the Force provided a timely intervention in the form of assistance.

The Zabrak collapsed in roaring pain, too focused on his Jedi opponent to sense his surroundings, feeling the crude sensation of witch lightning before it was too late. Once ceased, the yellow-skinned humanoid weakly managed to look up to his attacker, a dark angel descending from the heavens and standing between him and the observing Jedi, two pale fingers to the forehead all that's required.

"Rest now, fallen child of Dathomir." And the knelt Zabrak, dropping his deactivated blade, fell safely into the waiting arms of loyal Nightsisters, springing from the mists of Dathomir to aid their leader. Turning around, the head of the witches faced the guarded Master and appraised him. "Master Sifo-Dyas, forgive this rather ill-timed welcome."

"Mother Talzin." The Jedi nodded, retreating his blade and clipping the hilt, displaying courtesy. "Dooku sends his regards. It's an honour to finally meet you at face value."

"The honour is all mine, Master Jedi." And with that disembodied voice, Talzin gestured dismissively towards the fallen Nightbrother. "Sisters, take him to a safe sanctuary within the temple. I shall handle this." As the sister obliged their leader, Talzin provided a mysterious smile towards Sifo-Dyas. "It appears that Sidious was intending to have you ambushed and killed here, on the homeworld of his own new pawn."

"So it would seem." Sifo-Dyas inclined his head. "So it was not you who sent the transmission?"

"I'm afraid not." Talzin responded, making rather dramatic flairs with his sleeved arms. It was almost disconcerting. "A trap, laid by our shared enemy. Fortunately, nothing on Dathomir transpires without my knowledge. It is fortunate we intervened in time."

"So it is." The Jedi Master smiled politely, bowing slightly to express gratitude. "I am thankful for your assistance, Mother Talzin. And it is gratifying to see that the Nightsisters have not been harmed by our deceptive foe."

"Think nothing of it, Master Jedi. We are allies to Dooku's new order, after all." Talzin waved dismissively and motioned to the temple. "Come, we shall discuss more at our sanctuary. You are weary from your travels and confrontation just now, I can see. Are you familiar with Dathomirian wine, Master Sifo-Dyas?"

* * *

Red and green blurred across the room.

"Concentrate!"

"I am!"

Shmi Skywalker observed the spectacle with a small smile. Once, the duel of blades and Force powers was equally fascinating and terrifying to behold. Now, a few years under Dooku's care and service, the aging woman could watch this display with content and carefulness. The Dathomirian and human, both young women, showing off their raw display of skill and training beneath their respective Masters.

And not just through saber combat.

"You're a mess, warlord!"

"You're one to talk, drug dealer!"

But through banter as well. Asajj and Komari traded blows back and forth, through a symphony of vocal insults and saber strikes here and back. Four blades battled, two of green and two of red. Jar'Kai, Shmi had heard Master Narec referenced the technique, explaining it was a rare skill for Force practitioners to master. Shmi would probably never fully understand the relationship between the lightsaber and the Force, nor does she pretend to comprehend either all fully. But still, you don't have to always understand something to appreciate the art behind it.

Shmi had to stifle a chuckle, internally thinking now that she was reminding herself of Dooku, whom often fondly referred lightsaber fighting and style to art. The man was a saber enthusiast, and made no hesitation in showing the two girls how its done given the chance, to the other's amusement. Like a grandfather lecturing his grandchildren in the well-aged styles of training passed to the young.

"Blonde nerfherder!"

"You're blonde too!"

"At least I wear it better. Even considering going bald, witch?"

Shmi had both hands clasped before her waist, keeping a firm eye on the exchange. Their teachers had often found the display exasperating, but Shmi considered the sisterly banter endearing. Over time, Komari and Asajj had grown from wary and antagonistic towards one another to that of partners, almost sibling-like.

Komari clearly saw herself as the older sister figure, if they followed that train of thought, criticizing and offering improvements though harsh wordplay whenever she could. Asajj, having a feisty spirit given being raised on a warring world, didn't take the advice lightly, remarking where the ex-Bando Gora member could shove her advice up to.

"Your saber skill is sloppy."

"Funny, yours would be too from all the spice you've been sniffing into."

"Witch!"

"Addict!"

And now it was time for the oldest woman in the room to step in. As though sensing her intent, both young ladies whirled their heads after another saber lock and stepped back from one another, de-igniting their weapons. Shmi smiled knowingly. "I think you two have had enough practice for the day, don't you?"

"I disagree." Komari sneered, but without malice. "My oh-so esteemed _Master_ is counting on me to improve everyday. And I have to drag this ungrateful whelp with me with her Master out doing some _Jedi_ work."

Asajj smirked. "You're simply jealous that it doesn't take much to impress _my_ Master."

Shmi didn't need the Force to sense Komari's boiling intent. Firm hands placed against the girl's shoulder, preventing one from pouncing on the other like a nexu cat. "That's quite enough." That warm voice held a newfound edge to it, stopping the two in their tracks. Shmi glanced between calmly, but those brown eyes held a new sternness to it. "I'm sure your teachers would wish for you both to spar together without trying to severely harm one another, certainly?"

"You'd be surprised..." Komari mumbled, both she and Asajj refusing to meet the older woman's look.

Sighing in fond tiredness, Shmi smiled lightly and walked in-between the two girls, pressing her hands to their backs and guiding them away from the training arena. "Rest and relaxation are as essentially vital to training than sparring and, in your girl's case, wordplay. Now, I don't know about you two, but watching that spectacular duel has left me quite famished. How about Tatooine stew with Serrenian rice? You may chop up the bantha again, Asajj, and you may peel the carrots Komari."

"...Could we watch a holomovie afterwards?" Asajj asked rather hesitantly.

Komari snorted, but Shmi met the young pale woman's hopeful face with a warm bright smile. "I shall guess; the one involving the Kashyyyk uprising against the tyrannical Trandoshan empire again, yes?"

Asajj's answering grin warmed her heart, even if Komari made another comment which resulted with more exchanged bickering as they advanced down to the kitchen of the palace. Shmi never had daughters, but these two, having been under her care for a few years now, had a strong place in the aging woman's heart, and would never be replaced by anyone.

* * *

There was turmoil in the Force.

Well, that much wasn't news nowadays. Even the Younglings in their little creche's could sense the massive tides changing through the Living Force, startling the children and caused their distress. Qui-Gon thought he had never seen the caretakers appear so disheveled.

But that was the least of his worries.

Oh, don't get him wrong, the major shift in the Force was a great cause to be disturbed and upset, even by the most wisest among the Masters. Qui-Gon was as equally disquieted by the imbalance changing across the flowing currents as his peers. Ever since the announcement made by his former teacher, the Council had confined themselves to the meeting chambers for a majority of the day, happening since the galactic-wide broadcast. Qui-Gon had yet to see any sight of Mace or Master Yoda until then.

But right now, they weren't the Master's concern. The Council can agree and conjure up baseless assumptions all they want, but Qui-Gon's focus was on a particular Jedi who took this newfound opposition to the Republic the hardest among the whole Order.

Ever since the broadcast, Anakin had confined himself too, but only their shared quarters. Of course he'd join the classes, briefings and training sessions when need be. But beyond that, Qui-Gon found that his own pupil was a torrent of emotions, refusing to release these feelings to the Force or confiding in his own Master about it. Now, Qui-Gon himself was never as close as he felt with Anakin towards his old Master Dooku, but Qui-Gon couldn't recall a time where he was under stress and became so reluctant to share these concerns with the ex-Jedi.

Of course, Dooku wasn't hesitant in calling his first student out on it and demanding him to share these worries. Qui-Gon often missed the tactless commands of his former teacher.

But the idea that Anakin, of all people, would close himself off through from people and through the Force, even blocking their own bond, to Qui-Gon... It hurt.

It hurt quite a lot.

The Jedi Master sighed, releasing his own inner insecurities to the Force and reaching the doors to their shared quarters, expecting Anakin, despite shielding himself, to be inside, focusing on repairing another toy model of a favourite speeder, or watching a holo-recording regarding another illegal Podrace. Usually what Anakin does when he was upset and Qui-Gon has yet to confront him about it.

That brought a faint smile to his face, but Qui-Gon composed himself. The boy was always worried about his own mother, continuously asking his Master admist the early stages of his apprenticeship to one day liberate Shmi from slavery. The Jedi Master had vowed to do just that, but this... Unexpected development must have amplified Anakin's concerns and could feel like a personal betrayal against Qui-Gon.

It would break Qui-Gon's heart to think that Anakin distrusted _him..._

Straightening, Qui-Gon entered the room and found it immediately vacant. Perking a brow, expecting to see Anakin staring sullenly on the couch at a recording, the Master deduced he must be in his bedroom, striding over to the door beyond the small kitchen and providing a brief knock on the door, politely tapping against soft brown metal.

"Anakin, open up."

No response, and Qui-Gon refrained from sighing. Obi-Wan was never this reluctant. Another tried knock.

"Anakin."

Nothing.

"Anakin, open the door."

Nothing.

"If you don't open this door right now Anakin, I will enter myself."

Still an absent answer.

The Jedi Master sighed. "Very well, you've forced my hand." And with the Force, made one gesture and the door slid open, light from the main room pouring into the tight small quarters. Qui-Gon anticipated seeing his young student curled up in his bed, or toying with a ship model.

Not a clean bed with no sign of anything used in sight.

Qui-Gon's brow furrowed. Perhaps Anakin went off to eat in the dining hall, or busy himself with studies, lightsaber practice or repairing a starship; a trait which many Jedi frowned upon him doing for whatever reason. Qui-Gon had to roll at his eyes at that implied insinuation once fellow Masters mentioned it to him. Really, what harm would it do for the boy indulging in an activity which, for all intents and purposes, emphasizes on focus and control in itself?

So why did the Jedi Master felt a prickle through the Force that something was amiss, something far different than the shifting tides caused by his old Master's new Confederacy...?

A beep in his robes, and Qui-Gon hastily pulled the comlink to his mouth. "Master Qui-Gon here."

 _"Master Jedi."_ A voice from a well-known engineer down in the Jedi Temple Hanger. _"Was your Padawan provided with permission to utilize a starship for a mission?"_

Something sunk in the Master's tiring being, replying cautiously. "Could you clarify on that...?"

 _"He claims the Council has sent your Padawan on a mission, strictly confidential. Though I do believe I heard him mention something about Serenno."_

The comlink almost fell from trembling hands.

* * *

Anakin hated having to lie.

At least, lying to decent people like the ones running the temple hanger. On Tatooine it was an unspoken social acceptance to lie and deceive others, if they are gullible enough. Without much difficulty Anakin piloted the vacant Jedi Transport from Coruscant's atmosphere, inputting the destination and steeling himself, teeth grit and youthful eyes blazing in determination.

He heard the rumours, that Count Dooku was the second Sith. And now, he had his mother. His own _mother,_ woven into his false web of death and destruction. Well not for long. Anakin was strong enough, he could feel it. Strong enough to take on some old man, Sith or no, and save his mother from suffering any longer. Years of training and guidance prepared the young Padawan to this very day. Today, he'll prove himself among the Jedi Order, rescue his mother and restore peace and justice to the galaxy, at last, as the stars and black space was replaced by blueness.

 _Hang on mom. I'm coming to save you!_

* * *

 **AN: Savage Opress was probably the most sympathetic character for me in all of Clone Wars. He honestly deserved much better than being gutted like a fish and forgotten to time along, after everything he's been thorough, a slave and tool to everyone around him.**

 **Anyone liking the EU mentions thus far? I do my homework beforehand concerning these things. I know Legends are no longer, but you have to be impressed by the heavy amount of research and dedication made to planets, their cultures and species. All these details and references by creative writers and artists. I legit feel bad for the fact that their hard work is now rendered null and void by the new canon. All that effort and imagination reduced to sneers and ignorance by many new fans, and old. Not all of the EU was questionably ludicrous, and I'm relieved that some is being brought back and even revamped to Disney's new canon.**

 **Speaking of EU, Outbound Flight reference anyone? I know many of you may have caught that during this chapter. Will I be adding Master Jorus C'boath to the conflict? Probably not. Having never read the book nor the clone comics involving him, I recall from research alone that the man was considered an extremist to the highest degree and somewhat unstable, too much for the like of Sidious or Dooku to tolerate. I hope thus far you've all been enjoying this new page to the story and the mixture of old and new canon.**

 **By the way, speaking of EU, anyone wanna help out for next time? I implore my fellow SW fan's minds in reaching back to old canon, thinking of planets or systems which would plausibly join Dooku's new cause. If you can think of these places or allies, do let me know, I'd appreciate it. Also, if you could, provide an explanation as to why these worlds or people would join the cause. I look forward to seeing the results.**

 **Also, I don't believe I've mentioned my own opinion about Star Wars Rebels.**

 **...Eh.**

 **It's okay, but the main characters?**

 **Snore.**

 **Especially Ezra.**

 **Ugh...**

 **You know it's either impressive or a failure when it's the show's** _ **villains**_ **that's solely keeping your interest in said show.**

 **Until next time, friends!**


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